A Year In Misery Almost Sort Of
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: Huddy. Cuddy recalls her past and the relationship she had with House during the college days.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So, this little puppy has been cooking for quite a long time. And I have finally decided to open it to the internet world. So, basically I want to say that this fic takes place from Cuddy's perspective in present time and then moves into the past. It'll be in that same format for each chapter. And that's about it. Enjoy!

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Cuddy was always certain she could keep her calm around him. She wouldn't yell. Perhaps she would raise her voice from time to time. A shout, not a yell, might sometimes pass those lips. But often, she kept her calm because if she caved and gave him what he wanted, she would never hear the end of it. 

It wasn't even the fact of being right or wrong. It was just a way of working with him. Of course, whenever she _was_ right, she would gloat just a little too much. But, he always made sure she knew when he was right, which seemed to happen a lot, so she figured her gloating was justified.

He used to be different. In a slight way, a better way. She knew what Stacy said. She had talked to Stacy about House. And she also had interaction with him when he had the infarction after she had not seen him in so very many years. Of course, she hadn't known him all that well in college. At least, that's what she claimed.

He was a legend and she was merely fresh meat. But, she had drive and ambition, and happened to be there when he wasn't who he presently was now. There was something about him back then. He could still manage to piss anyone off, but he was lighter. Better.

The med student lounge. It wasn't actually entitled this, but everyone, including the professors, referred to it as such. She was there too late on a Tuesday night. Well, by that time it was Wednesday morning.

He was there too. With some friends, but they weren't studying like she was attempting to. They were joking, whispering, and she assumed making comments about her. She wasn't particularly vain, but there was too much snickering going on for them to be talking about football.

The hour was drawing later. She needed to study, she needed to ace this test. If she ever wanted to go far in her career, she had to kiss ass and ace the first exam. She was quite aware of the games she needed to play to win during her first year here. She had to push her career. She had to already be professional.

And she watched them leave, the group of them. Each one glancing at her as they left. But, he lingered. She focused even more on her textbook. They were alone and she didn't know him. She was partially paranoid of what was to come, wondering what his buddies had dared him to do.

He walked over to the couch she was seated on and plopped himself in the armchair next to it. He sighed loudly when she refused to look at him. Taking in a breath, she raised her eyes to meet his.

"I don't need a babysitter," she spoke harshly on purpose.

"Do I look like a babysitter?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She sighed and closed the textbook in her lap. Her eyes narrowed at him. "All right. Come on. Let's get it over with. What are you suppose to do?"

His arms were stretched casually over the back of the armchair. He looked to the ceiling, thinking it over, a smirk spread across his face. He finally brought his eyes back down as she still glared at him.

"I'm keeping you company," he answered smoothly. "It's almost three. You shouldn't be alone in here. There's a lot of creeps on campus."

"I know." Cuddy raised her eyebrows just as smoothly. "I'm sitting with one."

He immediately put a hand over his heart as if pained, but his voice came through with heavy sarcasm. "Ouch, that hurt."

She folded her arms across her chest. She knew now who this was. She had been previously warned. "Gregory House, I presume?"

"Presume away." He fluttered a hand in her direction.

For some reason a smile was creeping onto her face. She quickly jammed annoyance at it. "What do you want, Mr. House?"

"Dr. House to you, sweetheart," he spoke in his best Bogart impression and pretended to flick a cigar.

Cuddy wasn't particularly pleased, but his Humphrey Bogart impression was pretty damn good. For some reason that caused her to smile, but only a bit. She didn't want him to think that she was actually enjoying his company, which she wasn't, for the record.

She could have asked some question to keep him there and show him that she was engaged. She could have asked if he liked Bogart, or film noir, or movies in general. But, Cuddy chose not to. Why would she want to talk to Gregory House, who couldn't seem to keep his hands out of places they didn't belong and his mind on facts and rules?

"I'm trying to study." Cuddy opened her book once again and scanned her eyes across the words, pretending to read them while she tuned her senses to recognize what he was doing.

He stood from the chair. "My mistake and apologies."

Pleased that he was leaving, she darted her eyes to him just in time to see him flop down on the couch, throwing the upper half of his body across her lap. A corner of the book was digging into her side and she tried to jump up, but he made sure the majority of his weight was on her.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked him, not quite sure this was happening. "Get off me!"

"I don't like to be ignored," he stated this quite simply as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.

"Well, I'm not ignoring you now, so get _off_!" She pushed at him, trying to roll him from her lap, but it seemed fruitless. She stopped and prepared herself before shoving into him hard and knocking him to the floor.

Quickly standing, Cuddy grab her book and purse, and headed for the door, making sure she stepped around his figure on the floor. As she exited the room, she knew he was scrambling to his feet. She was certain he was not following her as she slipped out into the dark night and headed for her dorm.

As she headed down the pathway to her dorm building, she cried out at seeing a dark shadow emerge from some bushes. Her heart was still rapidly pounding in her chest when she realized it was Gregory House.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she punched him in the arm before she could stop herself.

"Ow!" He exclaimed and put a hand up to his now tender arm. He lifted his hand connected to the tender arm and showed off a set of dangling keys. "You dropped these."

Cuddy swiped them quickly, furiously. "You stole my keys."

She began to walk to her dorm, but he was right alongside of her, not letting up.

"_No_, I _returned_ your keys," he told her, emphasizing his words.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Cuddy picked up her pace. "How did you get out here so fast, creep?"

"I know the ins and outs of all the buildings, bitch," he retorted.

She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. Yes, she had heard the stories about how Gregory House stole cadavers and hid them in the inner workings of the buildings after he was done with them. She had heard of his stunts to prove everyone and everything wrong by using nearly illegal experiments. And she had certainly heard of the time he almost killed a guy because of some mix up about lab work, though many agreed that he did it on purpose to prove a point. However, she was pretty sure these tales were somewhat fabricated. At least, she hoped so.

"Could you kindly leave me alone?" She wouldn't look at him and hoped he would simply vanish just as he had appeared.

"You want to walk around campus at night by yourself?" He hid his worry for this interesting female by hyping his words with a bit of sarcasm. "So, you want to get raped."

She shook her head. "I didn't ask for this."

"No woman ever does," he replied.

That got her stop. She stared at him, eyebrows drawn together. He stopped as well and held his eyes on her.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she asked him, incredulous. "Do you find pleasure in harassing others? Do you feel satisfied as you drive people away from you? I heard about you, _Doctor_ House. I know of the stunts you pull and the people you piss off. I don't want any association with you. None. At all. Ever."

She waited for response. He held back the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He weighted his words and his lips parted.

"I'm going to make you love me."

With an angry and infuriated cry, Cuddy harshly stomped a foot into the ground. She couldn't stand to be around this man anymore. She turned from him and stormed off, swearing to avoid him at all costs. He watched her go and let his smile form, knowing it wouldn't be the last time he would interact with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the feedback so far! Hope you like this chapter!

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When asked about her relationship with Gregory House back in the good old college days, Cuddy would always respond in the same way. She had known of him, interacted with him in passing a few times, but that was pretty much it. It wasn't an interesting story at all. Except for the fact that she was lying.

There were only three people on campus that could give a somewhat accurate description of their relationship. Of course, these people couldn't be completely sure, but they speculated. One was her roommate. The other two were security guards. Gregory House and Lisa Cuddy had a night relationship and though it became a frequent occurrence for them to be walking around campus together in the very wee hours of the morning, the relationship had actually begun quite rocky and would remain that way for at least the very beginning.

"Hello."

"What the hell do you want?"

Gregory House was standing in the doorway watching Cuddy as she drew diagrams for her class assignment. It was quarter to two in the morning and no one else was in the med student lounge. Cuddy had come to realize that not as many students actually used this lounge as she thought they did. But, she was told that during midterms and finals, the lounge was always packed. She was glad that midterms weren't for another month.

He entered the room. "Is that any way to greet _me_? Dr. Gregory House?"

She glared at him and then went back to her work. She was seated at a table with papers, rulers, pencils, and books spread about. He approached and began flipping her books closed. She reached out a hand, preventing him from closing the last book. She looked up at him, a frown on her face.

"Don't you have some dead bodies to steal?" she questioned with disdain.

"That's a rumor," he commented, removing his hand. "Completely true, but a lot of people don't know that. Except you now."

"I don't care," she replied and turned back to her diagrams.

He seated himself, pulling his chair closer to hers. "Do you remember that little detail I told you about how I don't like to be ignored? It'd be a shame for something to happen to your little project here."

She brought her eyes back up to him with a sigh. "You're not going to do anything."

He swiped up one of her diagrams before she could stop him. He held it away from her, hands placed in case he had to fill the sudden urge to rip it.

"You wouldn't dare," she told him malevolently.

Leaning back in the chair, he thought this over, leaving her with a sudden feeling that he actually would. He let the suspense linger a bit more before shaking his head and dropping the diagram to the table. "No. I wouldn't."

She didn't reinforce the fact that she knew he wasn't going to rip it. She was certain from interacting with this man, that he could go back on his word in a second just to prove her wrong. He became quiet as she began to work again. After a few moments, his fingers began to drum on the table. She stopped and raised her head to him.

"I'm trying work," she told him. "Please leave me alone."

"Free country," he shrugged.

"You're only going to be able to use that phrase for so long," she replied, then looked back at her work. "It'll die out real soon."

"Doubt it." He raised his eyebrows. "Lisa, right?"

"How do you know that?" She didn't lift her head and her tone indicated she was tired of his games.

He held back a smile. "I have my ways."

She raised her head. "Stalking me now?"

"Do I look like a stalker?"

"You look like a lot of things." She glared. It actually annoyed her that no matter how much she glared at him, he still wouldn't leave her alone.

"I don't like that name." He made a face. "_Lisa_. It sounds like someone spit up."

"Gee, thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"Cuddy." He nodded at her. "Cuddy's good. It's strong. Bitch-like."

"Really, thanks." She turned back to her diagrams, hoping he would finally understand that she didn't want to talk to him.

He paused and a smirk formed. "Cuddy, warrior princess."

"Gregory isn't so great either," she shot at him, trying to make him mad by this statement in an attempt to get him to leave. Looking back and remembering the nickname, she would recall his anger whenever anyone brought up the show Xena, claiming he held the rights to the nickname.

"That's why I go by Greg." He extended a hand, which she ignored. He dropped his hand to his side. "Ah, Cuddy, if you only took the time to get to know the love of your life."

"You're the love of my life." She narrowed her eyes at him.

He shrugged in response. "I told you I'm going to make you love me."

"I highly doubt that," she told him with attitude. "You're completely infuriating."

"There's a fine line between infuriation and infatuation," he replied smoothly.

"Infatuation isn't the same thing as love." She shook her head. "And they aren't even remotely close. They're on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon which is the distance I want you to keep from _you_."

Cuddy stood from the table, throwing her chair back harshly. She gathered her things and jammed them quickly into her side bag.

"It's hard to stay that far apart on a campus like this," he commented, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head.

She ignored him and threw her bag strap over her head, resting it on her shoulder and situating the bag on her hip. She began towards the exit and he watched. She stopped just before reaching the doorway. She turned quickly and faced him.

"Listen," she started, not wanting him to get the last word. "I don't want to be around you and you certainly don't want to associate with me. I bet your friends would get a kick out of seeing you hanging out with the too-dedicated-to-her-schoolwork freshman. So just... lay off."

"Yeah, because I care if you're a freshman," he replied, his eyebrows drawing together. His tone dropped down with cruelty. "Just another notch in the belt."

She shook her head, her jaw setting in anger. She turned and walked from the room. With a sigh, he immediately jumped to his feet and followed after her.

"Wait," he called as she pulled open the door to exit the building. "Hey."

He took off after her as she ignored him. Once outside, he hurried his pace to a jog to catch up to her. He fell in step alongside of her.

"Leave me alone." She gave him a side glance.

"I can't do that," he replied. "I have to make you love me."

"That's never going to happen," she told him and picked up her pace. "Now, seriously, leave me alone."

He stopped. "Well, I guess this is it for tonight then."

"Yes," she called over her shoulder. "Now, goodbye."

She was too far away and probably couldn't hear his words, but he said them anyway. "Goodnight, Cuddy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all your wonderful comments! I appreciate them so much. Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it.**

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It was a funny thing when she saw him now, all miserable looking as he limped through the hallways, knowing it was she who did that to him. Of course, she didn't operate on him, but she was there, watching as they performed the surgery. She merely had a great hand in dealing the cards that would give him that cane and limp.

However, she thought it was better than the worst possibility. Had he never had the surgery, she was positive he would be dead. It was that thought which made her agree with Stacy's idea to do this surgery when he couldn't make the decision. She was sure she freaked a bit and that's what made her side with Stacy.

It scared her to think this being, who she shared those nights with so long ago and who truly knew the extent of their relationship, would be gone and she would be the only one left to carry on those memories. Especially that day when she first felt she might actually be able to trust him. Yes... she was sure she freaked.

"Are you _serious_?" she glared angrily at the doorway.

He entered cooly. "Do you think I would just leave you alone without a fight, Cuddy? Besides, if you _really_ never wanted to see me again, you would find a new place to study."

"There's no reason for me to relocate when-" she began, eyes locked on him, watching his every movement.

"If our meetings pained you so much," he cut her off, "you would find somewhere else to go. You're smart. You know I would come back here if I was looking for you."

"If?" she repeated. "There is no if. You _are_ looking for me, Creep."

He perched himself on the arm of the armchair as she sat with a book in her lap on the couch. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Back to name calling, huh?" he asked. "Well, we can look past that, my pet. Do you mind if I call you my pet? I like to let the women who love me know they're mine."

She narrowed her eyes and glared intensely. "I am _not_ yours."

He smirked. "Not yet."

She slapped her book closed and stood. "You can stop with this now. It's getting weary."

Cuddy headed for the door, wanting to end their conversation as soon as possible. She figured she could attempt to study in her room, although her roommate was most likely asleep by now and Cuddy hated to disturb her by turning on a light.

As she walked outside, she was certain he would be catching up with her any minute. As she continued on and realized he hadn't yet popped up alongside of her, she actually felt a slight sting at the fact that he didn't follow her this time. Sure, he annoyed the hell out of her and she did want him to leave her alone, but part of her did enjoy the attention.

She glanced back, scanning the darkened campus to see if he was following. She didn't see him and suddenly crashed into a thickness of muscle and bone.

"How the hell-" she turned back around, expecting to see him smiling at her because he managed to take a shortcut to arrive in front of her once again.

Much to her surprise, a taller man stood in front of her. He had dark hair and Cuddy knew he was a lot stronger than she was due to the fact that she was now feeling the pain from crashing into him and he appeared unharmed. She stepped back, clutching onto her book.

"Where ya going all by yourself?" he asked and gave a laugh.

"No where." She stepped passed him, picking up her pace as she made her way to her dorm.

"Wait a second." He grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her around.

"Let go of me," she warned, looking up at the man and committing the details of his face to her memory... just in case.

"Do we have a problem here?"

She looked to the sound of the recognizable voice and watched as Gregory House strolled calmly to the two of them. The man immediately removed his hand from her arm.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"Campus Safety Patrol," he answered, holding his head high. He winked at her before sizing up the man. "Now, is there a problem?"

"Nope," the man replied, raising his hands defensively. "Just leaving."

The man backed up and took off in the other direction very quickly. Greg dropped his act as soon as the man's back was turned. He gave Cuddy a smile.

"Anything you want to say to me?" he asked.

"No." She turned from him and headed for her dorm.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, catching up to her. "I just saved your life."

"No, you didn't," she told him.

"Yes, I did!" he insisted, gesturing with his hands.

She stopped and faced him. "I can handle my own. I would have been fine."

"If by 'fine' you mean 'dead,' then yeah." He nodded.

"You exaggerate everything." She rolled her eyes.

"I just _saved your life_," he emphasized. "Stop being so damn vain."

"Right, I'm vain." She nodded in sarcastic agreement. "I'm not the one walking around campus all 'every girl will love me' while I brag about all the awful rules I break and evil deeds I do."

"I never said every girl would love me," he replied quite calmly. "Just _you_."

She paused. What was he really after? She couldn't figure him out and that drove her crazy. He knew he was getting to her. He smiled.

"Looks like your Prince Charming came to your rescue." He shrugged. "Every woman's fairy tale, right?"

"You're Prince Charming?" She narrowed her eyes. "Then, I'm a billionaire."

She took off again and he reached out, placing his hand on her arm. She stopped and turned back to him, letting her shoulders droop.

She sighed heavily. "What now?"

"I saved your life!" he said for the third time. He was getting quite tired that she wasn't giving him the credit he deserved. "I wouldn't pretend I'm security and risk getting my own very important self killed for just anyone, you know."

"Yeah, whatever, thanks," she answered him without actually meaning it and turned from him again, picking up her pace.

"I was pretty scared," his voice penetrated the stillness of the night. She stopped. "Last year there was an incident on campus. She was kicked into a coma. I thought about pretending I didn't see you both and walking the other way."

She faced him, the entire ordeal finally beginning to settle into her. She knew that the events of this night could have turned out differently. Could have turned out disastrously.

"But, I didn't," he finished his thought.

Taking in a breath, she approached him, owing him that. She stopped about a foot from him, not wanting to get too close. He was watching her, studying her, trying to understand her without having the privilege of being allowed to pick her brain.

"You were... truly scared?" She wasn't sure if she believed him. She didn't know if this was another game he was playing with her.

He shrugged the question off, hiding his true feelings. "Only because I thought he was hitting on my woman. It was more of an angry nervousness than fear. The guy looked like a Quaker anyway."

"Right." She nodded, seeing through his sudden defensiveness and finally being able to see a deeper layer to this man known as Gregory House. She bit her lower lip, the wheels in her mind turning. She was pretty sure that the next time she saw him, she wouldn't be as turned off as all her previous experiences had been. "So... I'll see you... later, then."

"I'll walk you to your dorm," he offered, then switched his tone. "You know, in case Quaker boy tries to persuade you to give the burning love you feel for me to him."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not necessary. I'm sure two attacks in one night is highly unlikely."

With a turn, she began to leave him. He watched her, wanting to go with her to make sure she got back okay, but he knew that wasn't really him. Since when did he care enough about one woman to make sure she safely returned to her room? However, he had a feeling he would trail her just in case.

To his surprise, she turned. "I, uh... um, thanks. Thank you... Greg."

She turned back just as quickly as she had turned around and picked up her pace away from him. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter!! I'm glad you're all enjoying young Greg and Lisa so far. Thanks for all your fantastic comments. I appreciate them. :o) Thanks! And Enjoy!**

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Cuddy was on the couch in her office. She knew she had been coming down with a cold and was trying to rest in the hope of forcing the sickness away. Her eyes were closed and her arm was thrown haphazardly behind her head.

There was a rapping at her door. She looked over and saw him standing there. Of course. He had a radar that sensed whenever she was sick or upset. He used that radar to his advantage. He would often propose performing insane surgeries or tests, knowing that she would give in quickly if she wasn't well.

She waved him away and turned her back to the door. She knew he would enter anyway, which he did. Sighing, she faced him, giving him a look. He smirked and set himself down in the chair next to the couch. She was going to cave, he knew it. He always knew when she would cave.

It was a late night and particularly cold. She hadn't seen him in about a week and that was almost starting to hurt her. But, she concluded, he had found a new woman to harass. She told herself she should forget about him and move on. He was an annoyance anyway.

"Lisa..." her roommate shook her from her state of almost sleep.

She stirred and rolled onto her back, squinting through the darkness as her roommate leaned over her bed.

"Some idiot who says he's Prince Charming cracked our window throwing rocks at it," her roommate told her. "He says he wants to see you."

Cuddy groaned and sat up. Attempting to tame her hair with her hands, she climbed out of bed and threw on a jacket over her pajama top. She slid on a pair of sneakers and grabbed her dorm keys. Her roommate had returned to her own bed.

"And tell him if we get charged for the window damage, he's paying it," her roommate called out just before Cuddy let the door close behind herself.

She stepped out into the cool night air slowly, scanning the nearly empty area. He stepped out from a shadow, a smile on his face, head cocked to the side.

"Your roommate's a bitch," he said, hands in his pockets.

She glared. "You woke her up and cracked our window. What do you want?"

"Care to walk?" He indicated toward the campus with a nod of his head.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Not particularly."

"You're upset," he said, stepping closer to her.

"You damaged our window," she replied, her eyebrows drawing together.

He shook his head. "This isn't about the window. Did something happen?"

She froze, trying to hide the fact that something was wrong. She wanted to play it off so he would drop it and let it go. However, he knew he was right. He waited to see what her reaction would be. If she wanted to drop it, he would... for now.

"Fine, let's walk," she took off in the direction he had indicated.

He walked up alongside of her. He gave her a glance. "I bet you're wondering where I had been."

"No," she denied too quickly, causing him to smile.

"I had a project," he told her, knowing she was curious. "We went to examine some cadavers in Detroit. It was a five day study and a lot of research."

She took the information in, glad that he had a reason for his sudden disappearance from her life. She realized she had been quiet. "I don't care."

"Sure you don't." He led the way up a flight of stairs, crunching leaves in his path.

"I don't," she repeated, following after him.

When they reached flat ground again and were walking next to each other, he slowed his pace. She didn't consciously notice, but slowed her pace to match his.

"This week, and possibly last week, has been tough for you," he said.

"Because you've been gone?" She raised an eyebrow. "No."

"I wasn't referring to me," he responded, keeping his eyes on hers.

"For once," she replied.

He led the way over to a bench and sat down on it. He indicated for her to sit next to him where he left space open. She refused and remained standing in front of him.

"You're upset," he repeated his words from earlier.

She shook her head slowly, tiredly. "No, I'm not."

"My feisty Cuddy isn't here tonight." He eyed her up. "What did depressed Cuddy do with her?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You pulled me from sleep. I'm tired, okay?"

He shook his head. "No. The Cuddy I know stays up late studying to give her an edge over everyone else. It's barely even one."

"I was exhausted," she replied.

"Because...?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

She sighed, looking away from him. She moved to the empty spot on the bench and lowered herself down. He watched her, but she refused to look at him.

"There's some family things going on back home," she told him. "I... it's hard being away from them when there's so many problems. I'm powerless to do anything here."

"Because you need to be home to feel in control of the situation," he easily deduced.

She brought her eyes to him. It was surprising that he understood that about her. "Yeah."

"You can't control everything, Cuddy," he replied. "Sometimes, you have to let things happen. You have to let nature run it's course. If you keep trying to control everything, you're going to end up burnt out and stressed."

"Easier said than done." She looked up, noting the few stars that dotted the sky from behind wispy clouds. "I've always been there to solve problems. I've always kept things calm at home. Since I've been away... I feel like I'm failing them. By trying to succeed and make myself successful, I'm failing."

"You're not failing them," he said and she couldn't understand why he was suddenly being so nice. She figured he felt guilty for leaving without telling her. He leaned closer to her. "You have drive, ambition, and you're a complete bitch who knows what she wants. They're happy you're here. You can't worry so much about them. You'll get wrinkles on that attractive face of yours."

Bringing up her family problems had caused tears to form in her eyes, but she looked back to him anyway, not embarrassed by her emotions. "You really mean that?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He made an 'X' over his heart before making a face as if he suddenly croaked.

She tried to hold back a smile and swiped at her tears before they could fall. "I should probably get back."

She stood from the bench. It took him a minute to realize what she had said and when he did, he quickly stood as well.

"Let me walk you back," he offered.

"No." She held up a refusing hand. "I'd rather just head back alone. Thank you, though. And don't throw rocks at my window anymore."

"I'll try," he replied with a smirk, putting his hands back in his pockets.

She gave him a smile and began to move away, walking backward, keeping her eyes on him.

"I'll bug you tomorrow in the med student lounge at about two?" He asked her.

"We'll see, Creep."

With that, she turned and left. He flopped back down on the bench, pleased with himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**And on to the next chapter as we continue our journey in the past of House and Cuddy. Not to sound dramatic or weird or anything... **_**anyway**_**, here ya are, kids! Thank you for your comments, as always. Enjoy :o)**

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The scariest part about their relationship, she was sure, was the fact that he knew so much about her. He had been there, with her, through painful times. Now, if she brought up that particular night, he would give her some pretty nasty comments, claiming he just wanted to get in her pants. She knew better, of course. She wouldn't ask because she didn't want him to lie to her just so he didn't have to remember the kindness he had bestowed on her that night.

She wasn't sure why she decided to stay in the med student lounge. It was most likely because she knew if she wasn't there when he showed up, he would probably break her window the next time he chose to throw rocks at it. Even as she tried to focus on her work to keep from crying, the tears kept somehow spilling from her eyes. Each time, she swiped them away, aware that it only made her eyes more red and swollen.

"Allergies?" He always seemed to make his presence known by remaining in the doorway.

She looked up from the couch and quickly turned her head away from him. He didn't enter, not wanting to get too close. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen someone this upset. His friends never cried and no one in his family ever showed one ounce of 'weak' emotions.

She sniffed. "My grandmother passed away."

"Not allergies." He shook his head slightly.

"No," she agreed, still keeping her head bent down.

"Your family problem?" He took a step into the room, but no more than that.

She nodded in reply. He couldn't make himself move closer to her. Instead, he began to look over the posters and advertisements on the bulletin board. Sports, lost items, job offers.

"Even if you were there," he spoke without facing her, "you couldn't have stopped her death. Everyone dies. It's what we're born to do."

"What we're born to do?" she raised her head, tears on her face. "Then, what is all this? Why go to school? Become a doctor?"

He turned. "It'd be a real bore to do nothing but wait to die."

She was quiet, thinking this over. He turned back to the bulletin board. She leaned back into the couch. Finally, she directed her attention back to him.

"Do you believe in an afterlife?" she asked him. "Maybe not a heaven or anything, but just... something?"

He could have humored her. But that wasn't him. He turned his head, looking her square in the eye. "No."

"What do you think happens?" She was curious.

"We die," he answered her flatly. "That's it. Decomposition."

Her brow furrowed. "Is that an attempt to comfort me?"

"Not really," he replied, but looked back to the bulletin board, not being able to stand the sadness her face displayed. "Maybe. Depends on who you are. I can think of a few people who wouldn't want to live forever in eternal bliss."

"You?" Her voice held the sudden hostility that she wished she could have concealed.

He shrugged in reply. "Sorry about your grandma, but people die, Cuddy. You have to get used to it. It's something that's never going to change."

"Don't call me Cuddy." She narrowed her eyes at him.

He faced her. "Cuddy's a strong person. Be that warrior princess."

"Stop calling me that!" she exclaimed, her tears stopping.

"Cuddy or warrior princess?" he moved closer to her.

"Both!" she replied, frowning.

"You're angry at the situation." He nodded. "Understandable."

"I'm angry at you," she pouted, then became fierce. "Leave me alone."

"There's my warrior princess!" He smiled at her and plopped down in the armchair.

"You're not leaving." She stared at him.

"Mama said never leave a crying woman." He gave her another shrug.

"I give you permission," She replied, raising her chin defiantly.

"No loopholes." He shook his head. "Sorry."

"You are so irritating!" She wanted to hit him or kick him. Whichever would hurt more.

He leaned back in the chair. "Yet, you were still here when I arrived. I'm a bit surprised that you hadn't left especially with the death of your grandmother and all."

She glared. "I figured you'd have broken the damn window this time."

"I may have." He nodded in agreement.

She sighed and leaned forward on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. She placed her face in her hands. He leaned forward as well.

"Are you going home, then?" He asked, wondering if he would go home if the situation was reversed. He was pretty sure he wouldn't.

She nodded into her hands. "Yeah. After class tomorrow."

Cuddy brought her her face away from her hands and she stared at him. He wasn't intimidated and kept his eyes locked on hers.

"You_ really_ don't believe there's anything after this?" she asked him slowly, trying to understand how someone could live like that.

"Nope," he answered, a bit brighter than she appreciated.

"But,_ how_?" She was shocked by this. "I mean, why do you think we're here, then? How do you go on living if you think this doesn't matter?"

"I never said it didn't matter," he was quick to reply.

"That's hypocritical." She studied him. "You say this is it, there's nothing else and we decompose. You indicate that life is a vessel to death, implicating that what we do here means nothing. Yet, you believe it matters."

"It_ matters_," he paused for effect, "because humans reproduce. The ultimate goal in life is to achieve immortality. Progression in science and medicine may contribute to reaching that goal. Maybe not for me, but for the future spawn of the earth."

"That's," she took his words in, brow furrowed together, "really _sad_."

He shrugged and stood up. "Do you think I'm a bright and pleasant person?"

"I guess not," she replied.

"I'll walk you to your dorm." He extended a hand to her.

She ignored the hand and stood on her own, picking up her two textbooks and clutching them tightly. He noted that she didn't refuse his offer, which made him smile just a bit.

They walked in silence. He didn't particularly mind. He was still marveling at the fact that she hadn't refused him. He had begun to give up hope, but tonight changed that for him.

She, on the other hand, was just glad for the company. She didn't have many friends on campus and her roommate wasn't very good with personal problems. He was able to provide her with conversation and a bit of relief, even if he wasn't so great at comforting. It was, however, enough to make her realize that he cared.

When they reached the front door to her dorm, they faced each other and it was almost awkward.

"You going to be okay?" he asked. He _was_ concerned about her.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks."

He wasn't sure about what he was doing, but he found himself leaning in towards her. She didn't draw back or say anything. She simply let it happen. He gave her one tender kiss as their lips met. He pulled away quickly.

"Uh, goodnight." He moved back.

"Goodnight," she whispered, before disappearing inside the building.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for all your comments and I'm glad you're liking old House/Cuddy. Here's the next part! Enjoy!**

* * *

Cuddy wasn't one for mourning the dead. Given her chosen occupation, she saw enough death in a day than most people saw in years. Constantly, she was making sure the charts and files of those who had expired at the hospital were in order and properly dealt with.

She wasn't sure as to when she had first completely turned herself off from mourning the dead. However, she was certain it was during the shiva after her grandmother's funeral when she decided this kind of mourning wasn't for her. She didn't like to dwell.

As more members in her family passed away over the years, the rest of her family couldn't understand her reasons as to why she wouldn't attend any shivas nor make shiva visits. The saddest part was the fact that _he_ understood her need to withhold herself more than her family ever could.

She hadn't seen him in a week. After her grandmother's shiva had concluded, she had returned to school a bit more damaged and overwhelmed than when she left. If he picked up on it, he didn't show it. He was back to his previous self. All tenderness and compassion he had previously displayed was part of the past as he set himself back into his old ways.

It was late, as always, and she was swamped with work. She was overly tired, but couldn't rest because she had too much work to catch up on. Currently, she was sitting at the table in the med student lounge copying definitions to a study sheet she would use tomorrow morning while preparing for a test in her afternoon class. She was in the middle of _hepatic encephalopathy_ when she heard his voice.

"Most likely to become a prostitute."

She looked up at him. He smiled in the doorway. He wasn't leaning against it for once. He simply stood, the light behind him illuminating him to some degree.

He stepped into the room. "Congratulations. Campus voted, you won."

"I'm so honored," she replied sarcastically.

She turned back to her book, scanning for where she left off. When she found her place, she began writing again. He crossed to the couch and flopped down on it. He stretched himself across it, a leg hanging over the back while an arm hung over the front.

After several moments of the scratching of her pen, he grew agitated. "Would you shut up already? I can't get a word in edgewise."

"This isn't a social engagement." She was still writing. "And I have a major test tomorrow."

"And you'll ace it, giving you the highest grade in class." He rolled his eyes. "Which isn't even necessary considering everyone knows_ why_ you stay late with Professor Jacobson. There's no reason to be ashamed of it. If you've got the goods to get the grade, you might as well use them, Cud Cud."

"Cud Cud?" That brought her eyes up to his leg which flopped about behind the couch.

"Working on a new nickname." He swung his leg down and sat up, looking to her. "You don't like it?"

"No." She stared at him.

He flopped back down. "How about... Cuddybear?"

"Give me a break." She turned back to her book, but was certain she wasn't going to be able to concentrate.

"Cuddles?" He asked. "I like Cuddles."

She frowned. "I don't even like Cuddy."

"It's your last name," he reminded her.

"I prefer my first name," she replied.

"Sorry, Cuddles, I'm not so big on the first name scene." He glanced in the direction of her voice, but his view was blocked by the thick blue couch cushion and he was too lazy to sit up.

"Doesn't surprise me," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear her.

"What nicknames do you have for me?" He asked curiously, hoping for something good. "I've got four on you. Better catch up."

"Creep," she immediately responded.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's one."

"Jerk," she added.

He bit his lip and held up two fingers over the couch. She smiled at this.

"Greggers." It was the next thing that came to her mind.

"Sexy." He smirked. "Not you. Greggers, I mean. Wouldn't want you to get confused."

Her smile left, but she wasn't mad. "Scumbag."

"There." He stared at the ceiling, noticing the brown tinted water damage stains. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You are impossible." She sighed.

"Impossibly witty," he was quick to reply.

She shook her head slightly and turned back to her book. She flipped the page in her textbook and tightened her grip on her pen, preparing to write.

"You know what I always thought was strange?" He spoke up from the couch and she loosened her grip on her pen. "The beginning of the word funeral is 'fun.' I'm not exactly sure what the great meaning behind that is, but it's probably pretty important."

"Funny." She narrowed her eyes at the couch, hoping he could feel it. "The beginning of the word assailant is ass. Coincidence?"

"Aw, am I your assailant, Cuddles?" He sat up and looked to her. "I'm flattered."

"Stop calling me Cuddles," she commanded, setting her mouth in a small frown.

"Okay, Cuddy." He shrugged.

She sighed once more. Cuddy was better than Cuddles. He stood from the couch and she watched him, wondering what he was going to do next. Her eyes followed him as he seated himself across from her.

"Is that really necessary?" She asked him.

He shrugged again. "What? Thought I could help."

"If I need to break some rules and piss people off, I'll call you." She turned back to her book. She was definitely not able to concentrate now that he was across from her.

He reached over the table and took her hand. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than her and slid his hand to her wrist. Quickly, he grabbed her pen with his free hand and flipped her hand over so her palm was facing up.

Making sure she couldn't read what he was writing even though she tried, he carefully wrote on her palm. She strained to see, but he was clever at concealing it. Finally, he let her wrist go and threw the pen down on the table. She pulled her hand back quickly and stared at the numbers he had written. She looked back up at him, quizzically.

"For when you need to break some rules," he replied, his eyes piercing hers, a playful expression on his face.

With that, he rose from the table and left the room, not looking back or giving her a goodbye. She looked back down at the black telephone number on her palm and pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello, guys! Thank you for the feedback, once again. :o) I love getting it. Hope you like this chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

It wasn't too much of a mystery to understand Gregory House. Except when he did things out of the ordinary. Usually, they were stupid. Like insulting a cop repeatedly and digging himself into deeper holes, berating patients until one finally snapped and shot him, or perhaps sticking metal objects into wall sockets.

These things infuriated her. Mostly, it was due to the fact that she simply didn't know what drove him to do them. However, there were times when he surprised her in a good way. Like when he kept his mouth shut about having to inject her with fertility treatments. It was in those times, that all the previous annoyances at House's rash actions were forgotten. Though sometimes, the good didn't come soon enough and she needed a break.

Cuddy knew, no matter how much she kept away from him, he would always find his way back into her good graces. She knew now that she had a weakness for him. That was something she wished she knew way back then, after the first time he snubbed her. Maybe it would have changed the course of things. Then again, the same opportunity would have made itself known again and again. And she wouldn't deny him forever. Such was life.

She was on her way to class. Her books were growing heavy in her arms and she was blinded by the sun. But, she trekked on, knowing the destination was just ahead. However, she stopped when someone stepped in her path. She looked up and was caught off guard as a smirking Gregory House stood in front of her.

"Broad daylight?" she asked, squinting against the sun as she looked up at him. "Thought you'd turn to dust."

"That's vampires, dear Cud Cud," he replied and pressed his lips together.

"I'm on my way to class," she told him and stepped around him, continuing on.

He took hold of her arm. "Wait a second. I risk my reputation talking to the likes of you during the day and _you're_ going to blow _me_ off? I don't think so."

She turned and pulled her arm free, offended. "I never asked you to be my friend."

"Who said we were friends?" he was quick in his reply. Once the words were out of his mouth, he actually regretted saying them.

She nodded, hiding her hurt behind a knowing smile. "That's what I thought, _Doctor_ House."

With that, she turned and took off for her class. He sighed, annoyed with himself, and headed in the opposite direction. He was sure he wouldn't be bothering her ever again.

* * *

She was awake. It was a cold night at the end of October. Midterms were in session and the med student lounge was constantly packed. _Her_ lounge was constantly packed. She felt like she had been pushed out of her own home. As far as she was concerned, the lounge was her territory. However, she would forsake it during this busy time, knowing full well that in a week it would be hers again.

It was a month since she had talked to him. She had seen him twice. She could recall both times vividly. Once was when she had entered the med student lounge earlier than usual because she had two papers and homework to do. He was there with his friends and left shortly after she sat down. The second time was eleven days ago. They passed each other in the hall. He never bothered to even give her a glance. And as she remained awake in bed, she wondered why it hurt so much. She also wondered why she _cared_ so much.

She tore herself from her reverie and sat up. Squinting through the darkness across the room, she noted her roommate was asleep. She climbed out of bed and tiptoed to her desk. She opened the top drawer carefully and pulled out a small black book. Flipping through it and using the light from the unusually large moon, she located what she was looking for.

Giving her roommate's sleeping body a side glance, she headed for the telephone and picked up the receiver. She punched the numbers in and waited. She was certain she wouldn't get an answer, but she felt she had to try anyway.

"Hello?"

She froze and swallowed hard. It was him.

"Who do I pay respects to for this treacherous early morning phone call?"

"You said to call if I ever needed to break some rules," she whispered into the phone, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

There was silence on the other end. Then, his voice. "I'll be over in five."

With that, he was gone. She held onto the receiver for a moment, then set it back on the cradle. She ran a hand through her hair, thinking over what she would do next. Hurriedly, she dressed, throwing on jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and coat. She jammed her feet into her shoes, grabbed the keys to her dorm, and left her room.

She waited inside by the doors for him. She didn't dare go out and brave the cold while waiting. When she saw him approaching, she stepped outside. Her lungs constricted as she sucked in a breath of the ice cold air.

"Nice night." His breath condensed into a small cloud as he spoke.

"Yeah," she agreed, her breath forming the same small cloud as his.

"What kind of rules are you looking to break?" He held back his smirk, but his eyes showed his enjoyment.

She shook her head. "Don't know. Thought maybe you could show me. Or give me some examples."

He eyed her up and finally let his smile show. "Something can be arranged, I'm sure. Now, are we talking about campus, city, state, or country rules? Or, my favorite and choice selection, personal rules?"

"Personal rules?" she repeated and shivered against the cold.

"The rules you set for yourself and swear never to break." Those really were his favorite kinds of rules. Although, as he knew, it sometimes hurt when they were broken.

"It's too cold standing here." She shivered again. "Let's walk and I'll decide."

He agreed by turning and walking. She caught up alongside of him. As they continued, she wondered where he was leading her. She wasn't worried, but curious.

"I'm not much of a rule breaker," she confessed.

"Am I suppose to be surprised by this, warrior princess?" he asked, glancing at her.

She smiled, shaking her head a bit. "No."

She wanted to ask him why he avoided her. She wanted to know the truth because she didn't want to feel like crap about it. However, the words lodged themselves in her throat. He didn't seem to notice and stopped at an entrance to a building. She looked from the building to him.

"It's freezing," he said. "You'd have to be crazy to walk around in this weather. My apartment's on the second floor. We can discuss rule breaking there."

He headed toward the door. She held back, uncertain. When he realized she wasn't with him, he stopped and faced her.

"Too proud to stoop to apartment level?" he asked.

"No," she replied and marched over to him, just to prove him wrong.

"Good." He opened the door to the building and led her up a flight of stairs.

She gingerly followed him down the hallway to his apartment. He opened the door and led her inside the darkened place. He didn't bother to turn on the light, but took her hand and led her through the room and into the short hallway before pulling her into his bedroom. He shut the door behind her and flicked on a small desk lamp.

"This is your room?" she looked around at all his possessions. His posters with musical artists, his guitar, his records, his books. These things made him Gregory House.

He moved across the room and stood behind her. She could feel his presence and she turned around, keeping within his close proximity. He planted a soft kiss on her lips, warming her from the inside out. She completely forgot how cold she had been just moments ago.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered into her ear before bringing his lips down to caress her neck. "I tried."

She did her best not to give in, but she grew weaker as each second passed while their bodies were in contact. Parting her lips, she confessed a simple establishment she made during their second encounter. "This is a rule..."

"Good thing you were looking for one to break," he responded before his mouth met hers again.


	8. Chapter 8

**For my dear readers, here's another chappie! I hope you like it. And thanks for all the reviews on the last part. They really spiked up there. Haha. I enjoyed every single one so definitely enjoy the next part. :o)**

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One thing she always noticed about House was his lack of normalcy. It didn't surprise her. After all, she had formed in her mind what she figured was an accurate depiction of his childhood and adolescence. She was almost able to understand his need to pull himself out of the real world. It was his way of keeping himself who he was. It was the only way he knew how.

Maybe it did surprise her back then, though. She figured it must have even if she couldn't recall the exact emotions. Well, she could recall a select few emotions quite vividly, but none of them were surprise. But, she must have. After all, _normal_ people were often surprised with House's actions and she wouldn't accept that she could actually be anything different.

Gregory House set out to avoid her. And that _hurt_. But, by the third day, she made herself get over it because her work was suffering. So, she let him go and wound up feeling completely stupid that she had ever trusted and believed him to begin with.

It was now day twelve and she was on the couch in the med student lounge. Her eyes were closed as she was sprawled out, an open textbook resting on her abdomen. She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep too well as of late.

"Here."

She jumped at the sound of the voice and immediately sat up. It was him. He set a cooler down on the short table in front of the couch. She stared at the dirty cooler, then looked up at him.

"What is it?" He curiosity overtook her battling emotions of relief at seeing him and anger that he had been avoiding her.

"Brain with tapeworm," he answered brightly.

She stared at him. "You're serious."

"I don't think it could be any more serious than that," he replied.

She leaned back into the cushions of the couch. She couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe him. What was wrong with this guy?

"Let me get this straight." She held up a hand. "You lure me to your room, we sleep together, you give me the cold shoulder for almost two weeks and then give me a tapewormed brain in the hopes to fix everything?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know there was problem."

"What is wrong with you?" She stood from the couch and crossed the room, unable to remain in a close physical proximity with him. She faced him. "Are there some sort of issues going on that I need to know about in order to get close to you?"

His face showed no reaction. "I think I need a translator to understand what you just said. Are you trying to confuse me with that woman mind of yours?"

"What is that suppose to mean?" She was offended and placed her hands on her hips to show it.

"It _means_," he started, "your sorry attempt to make this into a conversation held by couples in romantic relationships is a bust."

"Who said anything about a romantic relationship?" She raised her voice. "Yeah, we had sex. Big friggin' deal, right? I'm talking about _friendship_. Something you apparently have no grasp on."

"Right, because no one would want to be friends with someone as mean and cynical as me." He nodded. "I get it."

She sighed and let her guard down. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Yeah, that's _real_ apparent." He took one last jab before lowing his guard as well.

"Greg..." She swallowed hard and brought her emotions in check. "I don't want to do this anymore. It's tiring. And unhealthy. I can't continue to be your friend if you never let me in. Either there's a change or this stops."

"Change is an interesting thing, Cuddy," he replied, his eyes watching her shift uncomfortably. "Not everyone has the power to change."

"Do you?" she asked.

He smiled just a bit, but didn't give her an answer. She took that as a no. With a sigh, she crossed the room and began to gather her things. He folded his arms across his chest.

"So this is it, then?" His eyes never left her.

She picked her head up and locked eyes with him. "Yes. It has to be."

"So, you just used me for sex." If this was it, he needed to push her buttons some more. He couldn't just let her go.

"No." She wouldn't look at him as she jammed her book into her side bag. She tried to will the color rising to her cheeks away. "I mean, the sex was- no, we're not talking about the sex. This has nothing to do with the sex."

He placed a hand on her arm, stopping her movements. Her eyes went to his hand before raising to his face.

"It's always about the sex." He smirked.

She glared and he had the urge to laugh, but repressed it for her sake. She would _not_ appreciate being laughed at in this moment. She threw her bag over herself and brushed by him, the contact making him want to grab her and kiss her. He needed to stop her.

However, his senses were lost because he _knew_ she wasn't going to stop without a reason. She was out the door. He needed something, _anything_, to go on. That's when he spotted it. He hurried after her.

He figured she took off at a jog once outside the building because she was already halfway down the sidewalk in the direction of her dorm. He had to run to catch up with her. Her shoulders drooped as she heard him approaching.

"Wait," he commanded.

She turned to him. He slowed his pace until he stopped in front of her. He tried to catch his breath and held out the dirty cooler.

"You forgot your brain." He shoved the handle into her hand.

She clutched on to it because he removed his hand and she didn't want to drop the cooler to the ground. She held it out. "You should put it back in the body it belongs in."

"Doesn't need it." He shrugged. "He's dead."

"Why do you do this to the cadavers?" She asked, shaking her head. "Stealing brains. It's kind of sick, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you." He was hurt that she didn't understand. If there was one thing he thought she should know by now, it would be his need for knowledge, for truth, for answers. "Besides, how else would I learn, Cuddy? These people _donated_ their bodies to me. I run experiments, solve things."

"They donated their bodies to _you_?" she scoffed. "This is why I can't see you. You prance around like everyone around you are your subjects, yet you never let anyone close enough to _see_ you. And I get that it's not going to change. Which is why we have to be strictly professional now."

She offered the cooler out again. He pushed it back towards her.

"Brains are considered as professional material in the medical world if you're unfamiliar," he told her. "At least, infected brains are."

"Goodbye, Greg." She set the cooler down on the concrete sidewalk.

She turned from him and picked up her pace. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. This wouldn't be the last time she would hear from him. He vowed it as he picked up the cooler. He took a different route to his dorm, making sure not to give one last longing glance at her outline in the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**I enjoyed all your feedback from the last chappie. Thank you guys so much! This next part happens to be my favorite thus far, so enjoy. Oh, and I don't own "Can We Still Be Friends" by Todd Rundgren.**

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When times with House were too hard, Cuddy had a special place she could go to in order to remind herself that he was a person and not an irritating piece of unlovable human flesh. Of course, the facts and details of those times were never expressed to anyone. Which was hard because she felt for House. There were times she wanted to defend, to prove to others that he wasn't always so mean and cold.

Cuddy knew there was a side of him that was comfort. However, she couldn't name examples. Maybe a few that ended with coldness or began with coldness to which others claimed he merely faked in order to not get fired. She couldn't speak of the present times of comfort sans coldness because they were too personal to share. And the other times of comfort took place in the college days. Cuddy had always played off those times as if she had known him, but never really _knew_ him. And thusly, she kept her mouth shut.

Her roommate was away for the weekend and therefore, she had the room to herself. She stocked up on food and barricaded herself in. She needed this time to be alone, to deal with her pent up emotions. In order to make sure she stayed on top of her schoolwork, she had forced herself to forget her emotions. However, that led to crankiness and numbness. Two emotions she needed to expel from her body.

So, she cried. She blasted her mixed tape of Todd Rundgren songs, hoping the music that normally soothed her would drown out the sounds of her sobs. She was hurting, she knew. There was too much going on in her mind. After her grandmother's death, things started to get rough. School was stressing her out, the Gregory House issue wasn't helping, and she was menstrual. It was quite a lethal combination.

_We can't play this game anymore   
But can we still be friends_

The lyrics to the playing song made fresh tears start to pour. She swiped at them, but it was no use. She stood, not being able to remain in her bed anymore. She paced the room, glancing once out the window at the darkened night sky.

_Things just can't go on like before  
 But can we still be friends_

She walked to her tape player and jammed her finger on the stop button. She suddenly didn't care if people could hear her cry because she couldn't listen to those words anymore. There was a knock on her door. She froze and directed her eyes to the closed door.

"Hello, it's me. I've thought about us for a long, long time."

She shut her eyes. He was on the other side of her door, clearly aware of her Todd Rundgren musical selection as he quoted lyrics from one of the more popular songs. She shot daggers at the door. She knew he knew she was in there, but she wasn't planning on opening the door for him.

"I can pick a lock in a minute and a half," he told her through the door.

She crossed to her bed and collapsed on it. She pulled the covers over her head and tried to ignore the sound of him trying to break into her dorm room. There was a sharp click and the door swung open. She remained under the covers, refusing to give him her full attention.

"Go away!" she shouted, her voice thick with her tears. She realized how _pathetic_ she must sound to him.

"These locks are easier than the ones at the academic buildings." He shut the door behind him.

"I don't want you here!" She still refused to come out from under the blankets.

He was examining the books on her desk, the picture of her family. He turned to the lump on the bed. "And I pictured skulls and black."

She sat up, the blankets falling off her. "Get out! I don't want to be around you! You're... everywhere! I've changed my study times, but you still show up. I take different paths to avoid you! I can't stop thinking about you. Even in my room, you won't leave me alone."

He took in her appearance and thought about making a crack, but knew there were more important issues at hand. "I _can't_ leave you alone."

She stared at him, then opened her mouth to retort. However, she was at a loss for words. He reached into his coat and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He offered it to her.

"You want it straight or do you need-"

She yanked the bottle from his hand, which shut him up. She twisted off the cap and took a long drink. The taste made her grimace and she handed the bottle back to him, hoping she wasn't going to throw up what she just swallowed.

He stared at her as his fingers slid around the bottle. He smirked before bringing it to his own lips. Her stomach was burning, the flame rising up her throat. Other than that, she wasn't feeling it. She extended a hand to him and he slipped the bottle back to her.

She took another swig, the taste not as bad the second time around. She handed the bottle back again and he took another drink as well. She flopped back onto her bed. The burning had increased. She figured she probably shouldn't have had alcohol on an empty stomach.

He set the bottle down on the floor and nudged her with his hand. She scooted over in her bed and he slid off his jacket as he joined her in her bed. He kicked off his shoes and rested on his back next to her.

"You look like hell," he told her. He felt the need to keep up his persona.

She let out a heavy sigh. "One of _those_ nights."

"Yeah, men don't have those nights."

She turned her head to him and the room swayed slightly before she was able to focus on him. The alcohol had taken effect and she made a mental note not to sit up. He turned his head to her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Not so much crying," he replied. "Drinking is usually heavily involved. Depends on the person, though. Those are what _my_ intense nights consist of, anyway."

She nodded a little and then started crying again. She turned onto her side, away from him. She didn't want him to see her crying. Placing her hands to her face, she tried to keep her sobs silent as her shoulders shook.

He looked on, worried. He wasn't sure what he should do. After a moment, he turned onto his side towards her and extended an arm around her. Through her tears, she scooted back into him. After several minutes of heavy crying, her tears died down.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. She had lowered her hands and set them alongside her face. Somehow, his hand had made its way into one of hers.

"Don't be," he replied. "Crying's a catharsis. Wouldn't want you to go postal, now would we?"

She grinned and sniffled. "No, we wouldn't." She paused and her voice grew quiet. "Sometimes I think about leaving this. Just... go away somewhere and not be _here_."

"You'd never do that," he told her. "You're too devoted to medicine. You're too devoted to this life to leave it."

"I guess," she gave a small shrug. "I still think about it though."

"You'd actually want to leave this and all your hard work?" he was intrigued.

"Sometimes," she answered. She thought a minute. "But, then I remind myself I'm an adult and I grow up."

He was staring at her unkept hair, lost in that messy dark hair. He saw her. He saw the woman that hid behind the tough outside she always portrayed. In that moment, he realized there was so much more to her, which made him want to show her that there was something more to him.

She let out a breath. "We're never going to speak about this night after it ends. What was said. What happened. Ever."

And they didn't.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all the comments. I love 'em so keep 'em coming. I hope you enjoy this next chappie:o)**

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Cuddy could guess when she needed to back off. She had experience, after all. House would build up his tension until it was a thick sack inside of him that weighed him down. It was physically visible if you had the eye for it. Most others deemed it as tiredness.

When House was in one of these moods, Cuddy would gauge him. She would take in what he showed to her and decide from that if she should act or ignore. Sometimes, rare times, she knew she could act on it and talk to him about whatever it was. Though other times, which was most often the case, she had to let it go, hoping he would deal with it on his own.

It was December. In roughly two weeks, she would have completed her first semester. She was immensely pleased and her grades were well. Things had straightened out after she took the time to breathe and pull herself together over Thanksgiving break.

Currently, she was seated at the table in the med student lounge at one seventeen in the morning. He sat across from her, one of her textbooks in his hands. He glanced over the text as he bit his bottom lip. Squinting in concentration, he raised his eyes to her.

"Excess of fats in the blood," he offered to her.

"Easy." She smiled. "Hyperlipidemia."

"Treatment?" he asked.

"Lifestyle change, drugs if necessary," she answered.

"Woo." He raised his eyebrows in mock enthusiasm. "Seventy three right out of seventy three. Can we _please_ do something else?"

She sighed and reached for her book. "Fine."

She pulled the book from his hands. He sat back in his chair, relieved. He didn't realize that agreeing to help her study actually meant he would have to help her study. She pushed her book into her side bag which rested on the table.

"Now what?" he asked.

"I can go back to studying if you have nothing better to suggest," she told him.

"Must I come up with everything?" He rolled his eyes. A thought crossed his mind. He smirked. "I can think of something we'd both enjoy."

"I'm not having sex with you." She narrowed her eyes.

"Why?" He threw his arms out, annoyed by her answer. "You were willing the first time!"

"Only time," she corrected. "It's never going to happen again."

"Are you sure about that?" He leaned forward.

Her eyes were locked on his. She wasn't backing down. "Yes."

He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her up. For a moment, he thought back to that night in her dorm room. That night she was so honest with him. He wanted that honesty back, but he was unsure if that was ever going to happen again.

"Do you love me yet?" He asked and tried to hold back his smile. He wanted to see what her body language told him.

She was rigid and her voice was cold. "No."

Then, she smirked. He could have died right there. That smirk didn't go against her answer. It didn't prove to him that she was lying. However, it got beneath his skin. _She_ was playing with _him_. And he was enjoying it.

"We still have time to make that happen," he countered.

She gave a little shake of her head. "Not much. You've only got one more semester after this one ends."

"You think I can't do it?" He raised an eyebrow. "If Christ can rise from the dead, I can certainly make you fall in love with me." He paused and his eyebrows drew together. "Oh wait, you don't believe in that." He shrugged. "Scratch that. Neither do I."

"What do you believe?" She could have waited before asking. She had thought about it, but decided to cut right to it and not stall with any sort of warm ups.

"I believe in... humanity," he began and lifted his eyes to the ceiling while she gave him a look, "and I certainly believe in karma. The goodness in everyone, puppies and kittens, aaaand... you, of course." He brought his eyes back down to her in mocked shock. "Oh, wait. I don't believe in any of those things either. Especially you."

"Greg." She narrowed her eyes again. "Really..."

He paused, his face taken over by seriousness. He did want to tell her, to talk to her about parts of himself. But, it wasn't that easy. He wished she could just see it and understand it without ever having to tell her. She had her eyes still on him, waiting for him.

"I..." He suddenly stood and moved away from the table. "Cuddy, this is completely unnecessary." He faced her. "What does it matter what I believe in?"

She gave a small shrug, a bit of sadness coming over her. "I was just curious."

"_Why_?" He stared at her.

"I- you... you're always hiding yourself behind these pithy little comments," she told him. "I just wonder what you believe, what you _really_ hate." She paused. "What you love."

"You think you've got me pegged, don't you?" He asked her. "You think you've got Greg House all figured out? Well, you're wrong, Cuddy. You don't know me at all."

"I'd like to," she replied. "If you'd let me."

"Right." He nodded. "You'd just love to know what makes me tick, wouldn't you?"

Her eyebrows drew together and she was completely serious. "Yes, I would." She offered a smile to him. "Besides, how else would you make me love you?"

She thought bringing up his main goal would help. She thought it would get him to smile or, at least, ease him. However, it didn't. He paced back and forth twice, then took off out the room.

"Greg," she said as she stood from her chair. She headed after him.

He burst through the doors into the cold winter air. He left his coat back in the room, but he didn't care. He wanted the cold. She followed after him, stopping just outside the door, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Greg!" she called out to him. She raised her voice. "House!"

She thought that would make him turn, but it didn't. She let out a sigh. He obviously didn't want to talk to her. He was always able to chase after her because he knew she would always consider him. However, she remained rooted in her spot because she wasn't sure if he would stop and listen to her. She figured not.

He was walking fast, furious with himself. Why couldn't he just _talk_ to her? What was so wrong with him that he couldn't seem to open his mouth when it mattered the most? He was Gregory House, one never to be messed with. One who could kick your ass in a matter of seconds by cutting you with his sarcasm and insults. He was stronger than this, dammit. At least, he thought he was.

He was riddled with embarrassment. And he left his coat, so the chill was starting to bite. Letting a sigh escape into a cloud of condensation, he thought of her. Maybe next semester would be different. Maybe he would leave her alone. After all, she didn't deserve his treatment and he certainly didn't deserve her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, my dedicated readers! Thank you for comments. As you all know, I really do appreciate them. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. It's one of my favorites. :o)**

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When his first day on the job came about at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Cuddy was worried. He hadn't yet put together his office, which was very much against her urging. And when he finally showed up, two and a half hours late, limping with a box in his hands and cane resting on top, she was right behind him.

House shrugged her off, of course, like he would do time and time again. Cuddy, of course, would let him. She still felt pangs of guilt seeing him limping and he knew it. She thought he would rub it in her face, but he never did. Not unless they were fighting and his anger brought out accusations. She figured he was just as embarrassed about his limp as she was guilty.

However, he surprised her as he unpacked his box in his office while she watched and attempted to reprimand him through all his snide comments. Her surprise shut her up and he gave her a smile, but they didn't talk about it. They both knew nothing needed to be said.

It was much too cold and her ears were hurting. There were flurries in the night air and her father would be picking her up in only a few short hours. She was silently cursing Gregory House for choosing such a late time to meet.

As she approached the academic building where the med student lounge was located, she grasped tighter onto the wrapped present. It slid a bit beneath her gloved hands. She was anxious, unsure as to whether or not he was going to throw the gift back in her face. He could, she knew.

She yanked the door to the building open and walked the short distance to the lounge. She was surprised to see him there already, sitting on the couch. She stopped in her tracks before giving him a small smile and entering the room.

His eyes fell to the present in her hands and then he raised them back up to her face. He gave her a look that clearly revealed his annoyance.

She crossed to the couch as she pulled off her gloves. She sat down next to him and offered the gift to him. He eyed her up.

"I said no presents," he said, staring at her.

"I know, but you'll go home to a pine tree, eggnog, and songs about reindeer," she told him. "And when you get presents you detest because you're mean, hopefully you'll remember that you got one useful gift."

He studied her a moment before reaching out and accepting the package. He untied the silver ribbon carefully and then tore open the red wrapping paper, revealing a white box. He popped the lid and pulled out an oversized red and grey tennis ball. He looked up at her.

"In case I need to work on my loop swing?" he asked.

"It's not an actual tennis ball." She narrowed her eyes a bit.

"I know that," he replied, slightly irritated that she didn't pick up on his sarcasm.

"I watch you when you're thinking about symptoms, illnesses, and diseases," she told him. "I watch when you try to make a diagnosis. Your mind and body know what they're doing, but your hands... they're clueless."

He directed his eyes back to the ball and threw it gently back and forth between his hands a few times. He brought his eyes back up to her.

"I didn't get you anything," he said honestly.

"That's okay." She meant it. "I didn't want anything. It's not necessary. Besides, I'd rather give than receive."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

She glared and shook her head. "You're dirty."

"You'd know better than anyone." He smirked. "Especially in bed."

"I'll take it back." She eyed the ball.

"Well, that wouldn't be in the Christian holiday spirit." He clutched tighter onto the ball.

"Good thing I'm Jewish," she replied and leaned back into the couch. She wasn't going to take it from him. She noticed the look on his face when she threatened to and that was enough to convince her that he _did_ want the gift.

"This is it," he said. "You'll go home, I'll go home. We'll return for one last semester. Then, it'll all be done."

"Done for you." She stared at him. "I've still got three more years."

"Lest I forget." He raised his eyebrows, darting his eyes from her.

"What do you mean by that?" She was suspicious of his sudden change in behavior.

"Nothing." He brought his eyes back to her with a shake of his head.

She smiled. "Are you going to _miss_ me, House?"

"What is with this 'House' business?" He ignored her question.

Her brow furrowed. "You call me 'Cuddy.'"

"If you're going to call me 'House,' I want a 'Doctor' in front of it," he said, a little more forcefully than he had meant to.

"Same goes for me," she was quick to reply.

He thought it over, his eyes on her. "Fine, no 'Doctor' then."

She smiled. "Okay, House."

"It's getting late." He suddenly stood, the tennis ball in hand.

Cuddy picked up the box and the wrapper. "It was already late when I arrived."

He smiled. "Is that a problem?"

She stood also. "No." She paused, debating her words. "Have a Merry Christmas, House."

"And a Happy Hanukkah for Cuddy." he replied brightly, leaning in a bit.

"Thanks." She smiled.

"So..." He tossed the ball up into the air and caught it. He really did appreciate this gift. He also appreciated that fact that Cuddy thought enough of him to even buy him a present.

"Yeah... I better..." She gave a nod toward the door, indicating that she should probably go. However, she really didn't want to.

She turned to go and he reached out his free hand, stopping her. She turned back to him and he instinctually kissed her. She kissed him back, of course, because she really was all about the giving. When he pulled back, she bit her lower lip to try and keep her smile away.

"It's not a dreidel, but I thought it'd do," he said, giving her a smirk.

Her smile broke through and she nodded slightly, "Goodnight, House."

"See you next year," he replied.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, all. I'm glad you liked the ball part from the previous chapter. I was pretty pumped about it myself. Thank you for your comments. :o) Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

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Cuddy was well aware that when it was important enough, House would use that mind of his to help a situation even if it didn't relate to medicine or his job. Most of the time though, his mind didn't help. It usually made things worse with his comments and sarcasm. However, sometimes he was able to use that sharp mind to solve problems and help others even when he wasn't obligated to. And she had first hand experience with that side of House.

She furiously dug through each drawer in her dresser. From there, she moved on to her purse before digging through her desk.

"Can you keep it down?"

She stopped and looked in the direction of her roommate's bed.

"Sorry," she apologized to the lump under the blankets.

She glanced at the time before deciding that she had to move on. Grabbing her jacket, she threw it on while she stuffed her bare feet into sneakers. She jammed her dorm keys into her jean pocket and left the room.

Hurrying across campus on a mission, she made her way to the med student lounge. She whipped the door to the building open and practically ran to the lounge. Immediately she began tearing the cushions from the couches and chairs in a frantic panic.

"Looking for a miracle?"

She froze and looked to him as she was kneeling in front of the couch she usually sat on. Her hands were jammed in the gap between the back of the couch and the base. He entered the room.

"I lost my necklace," she told him and went back to digging.

He glanced around as if he would immediately spot it simply because she overlooked it. However, he knew it was probable that he wouldn't be the one to find it. Hell, he didn't even know what it looked like. He still began to look anyway.

Sometime during their tearing apart of the lounge, she began to cry. It wasn't rolling tears with heavy sighs, but frustrated tears that slipped out every now and again. She had a feeling the necklace wasn't here, but she didn't know where else to look. She tore apart her dorm, most classrooms on campus, the library, and now the lounge.

"Cuddy," he spoke softly as he stood next to one of the tables. He knew that if it was here, she would have found it by now.

"Don't," she commanded as she peered underneath the couch.

He crossed the room with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure it's under the couch. Do you want to check under the carpet? It'd be quite a task, but I bet we could rip it up."

She sat back on her heels and glared at him. "I need to find that necklace. It's the only thing... it was my grandmother's and if I don't... I _need_ to find it."

He sighed. "When was the last time you remember having it on?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed and forced herself to her feet. She began pacing. "I never take it off so I hardly notice when it's there because it's _always_ there, so when I finally realized it was gone... it could have been gone for day. Maybe more."

Her hand had found its way to where the necklace usually rested. She felt naked without it and she was constantly cursing herself for not realizing its absence sooner. He flopped down in an armchair which he immediately regretted because it was still missing its cushions.

"You retraced your steps?" he asked.

"I did everything, House!" She was taking her anger out on him. "I looked everywhere I had been in the last couple of days. Everywhere! Labs, classrooms, the cafeteria. I even went into the cadaver laboratory. By myself. At night."

She threw herself onto the couch, but didn't flinch against the pain that the cushionless couch caused. He placed his fingertips together, thinking about the last place one would find a lost necklace.

"Maybe it fell off in the shower," he suggested.

"I'm having a panic attack and all you can think about is me in the shower." She glared at him.

"First of all, you're not having a panic attack," he pointed out. "A psychotic breakdown maybe, but not a panic attack. And second, I was thinking of your necklace, not your naked body." He paused. "Wait. I have to take back that last sentence now."

"My grandfather bought that necklace for my grandma on their first anniversary." She was staring off across the room. "All those years and _she_ never lost it. It must have been more important to her than it was to me."

He stood and crossed to her. "Get up."

She looked up at him as if she just realized he was even in the room. "What?"

"Come on." He took her arm and pulled her to her feet.

He dragged her from the room, both of them leaving it in disarray. She didn't protest, but looked back longingly, hoping she didn't miss the necklace somewhere in the lounge. She let her hand remain in his as he pulled her out into the cold night air.

A passing security eyed them suspicious, him more than her. He, of course, gave the security guard a very large smile and a quick greeting. Once the security guard was gone from their sight, Gregory House hurriedly pulled her into a familiar building.

"I told you." She sighed. "I already checked-"

"Sh," he cut her off briskly.

She followed him to the cadaver laboratory and watched as he picked the lock in under two minutes. He opened the door and flicked on the light, revealing the recognizable room that held six long metal dome like containers, four of which had dead bodies in them.

"Which one were you working on?" he asked as he moved into the room.

"Yeah, because I'm sure it fell off into a cadaver," she replied and folded her arms across her chest as she remained in the doorway.

"Well, of course not." His look was exaggerated sarcasm. "That would be ridiculous. Which one?"

"Number four," she nodded to the metal container with a black four painted on it.

He moved to the container and rolled it away from the others. It had two doors on top which met in the middle. He reached for the handle, but stopped.

"Did you check it?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "No. It's not going to be on the cadaver, House."

He pulled open the door closest to him and held it in the vertical position. He reached out to the corner of the door and yanked a silver chain from between the joined metal at the corner. Her mouth dropped open as she crossed the room. Carefully, still not believing it, she took the silver chain with the emerald pendant from his outstretched hand.

"How did..." She looked to him, completely confused.

"When you closed the top of the cadaver case, you reached over this door to close the other one first," he explained. "Every time you closed that door first, the chain brushed against the damaged corner but never caught." He pointed to the slightly misshapen corner of the door. "However, you managed to snag it in the corner the last time you were here and when you pulled back to close the other door, the chain snapped and remained stuck between the metal."

"But, how did you know?" She was clutching tightly onto the necklace.

"Worked with an annoying Catholic who always got his crucifix caught in the broken door." He shrugged it off, but he was secretly pleased that he could make her so happy.

"Thank you." She immediately hugged him, causing him to drop the door, which clanked loudly against the metal. "Thank you, thank you so much. This means..." She pulled away and locked eyes with him. "Thank you."

He shrugged again. "Not a big deal. You would have found it the next time you worked with your cadaver anyway."

She smiled at him and turned, wanting to get out of the room before they were caught after having picked the lock to get in. He made sure the cadaver case was closed and in its proper place before following after her, reveling in the delight he felt at the moment when she gave him a smile right before throwing her arms around him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for your comments! I love them. And thanks for sticking with this story and being so dedicated since it does have so many chapters. I appreciate it! Enjoy the next chapter!!**

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Conversation with House was an art form. It took skill and practice. It didn't require much concentration after the initial understanding of how House worked was finally brought to light. Once Cuddy had wrapped her head around him, his speech, his verbal defenses, she could finally manage him and compete on his level.

However, an outsider could easily become lost in their conversation if they weren't used to it. That thought always made Cuddy a little unsure of herself when talking with House sometimes. She didn't like knowing that she could be on the same level as him, the same pace as him, because he _could_ be so cruel. Sometimes she didn't want to admit she understood.

She was seated in the med student lounge. It was earlier than usual, only just going for midnight. Valentine's Day was steadily approaching and she had to make valentines to send to friends from back home. It wasn't really her thing, but she decided to go along with it for the sake of her friends.

Currently, she was cutting paper hearts out of a large sheet of red construction paper. He was with her, of course, and sprawled out on the couch, his head resting on her thighs.

"I won't tell you again," she glanced at him. "If you don't get your head out of my lap, I _will_ lob it off with these scissors." She paused and then hissed, "and they're not very sharp."

"We're bonding, Cuddy," he told her, his tone humorous. "I mean, how else will you fall for me, huh? We _need_ this."

"_I_ need _you_ to get out of my lap," she replied.

"What is love, Cuddy?" He changed the subject. "In your personal sarcastic and cynical opinion, that is."

"I'm sarcastic and cynical?" She set the paper and scissors next to her and stared down at those blue eyes that looked back up at her.

"Of course!" He sat up and turned to her. "Why else would you hang out with the likes of me unless you shared my bitterness?"

"Excuse me, but if I recall correctly, _you're_ the one who wouldn't leave _me_ alone," she shot back. She didn't quite understand what he was trying to do.

"Trust, Cuddy dear, what is trust?" His eyes burned into her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you getting at, House?"

She was confused. Most of the time she was able to grasp their conversations and even take hold of them. Tonight, however, he was making things difficult. He would delve into topics that didn't make sense or were completely irrelevant. That always made her think he was onto something more, but she couldn't figure out what.

He, on the other hand, was right on track. Of course he wouldn't make it easy for her. He needed to know things about her, to know her. The only way he felt comfortable in doing so was through questions that seemingly meant nothing and would be taken lightly or be altogether ignored on her part.

"Simple questions, Cuddy." He shrugged. "If you know yourself, they're simple."

"Well, what do you think love is?" Her voice was harsher than she wanted it to be. "And trust? What about trust, House? I can play your game, too."

"You may be able to play, but you won't win." He smirked.

She eyed him suspiciously. "You really think it's that easy, House? Describing love and speaking of trust? It's not."

"Why?" His questioning stare evoked something in her. He was close to reaching that honest point and she didn't even realize she was being revealing.

"Because you can't just peg emotions and feelings with words and then blindly hope it justifies them," she answered, her mind racing and whirling as she thought it over.

He closed his mouth, thinking it over, their eyes locked on each other. "If you had to describe love in one word, what word would you choose?"

She shook her head. "One word can't even come close to giving it a proper description."

"Have you ever been in love, Cuddy?" His tone had reasonably softened, a tactic that made her fluster, which was his agenda.

"What kind of question is that?" She folded her arms across her chest.

"So that's a no," he concluded.

"No!" she denied quickly. "I never said that."

He nodded to her crossed arms. "Your body language said it all."

She unfolded her arms hastily and dropped the emotion from her face. "Okay. What am I saying now?"

"Blank stare... limp body..." He observed her and then concluded, "you're dead."

"House." She narrowed her eyes at him.

He smirked. "And emotion's back. You're angry, uncertain, confused, and... do I detect a little bit of lust, Cuddy?"

"No." She glared and that's when it clicked. That's when she finally understood. But, she covered her realization quickly. "You're mistaking lust for a burning desire to stab you with blunt scissors."

He hesitated and he knew she knew. She finally caught onto him, his questioning, his snide commenting tactics. It was his way to delve into her psyche. He would deduce her by the responses she gave him and now, she finally wised up to it.

"Kill the love of your life?" He attempted to get back on track. "How tragic."

"Life's tragic." She shrugged in response and lowered the scissors she had been threateningly holding towards him.

He leaned back into the cushions, his expression curious. She had meant it with nonchalance, but he wasn't buying it. "Why is that?"

She went back to cutting out her valentines, quite obviously showing him she didn't want to talk about it. He stood from the couch and crossed the room, stopping at the bulletin board. He feigned interest.

"Do you like being right all the time, Cuddy?" he asked, but didn't look at her.

"I'm not right all the time," she answered him and set her valentines aside again. She stood and crossed the room. "Do you hate being_ wrong_, Greg?"

He looked to her, a bit surprised that she had used his first name. "You mean once every blue moon?"

"No." She kept her eyes on him. She was playing his game, stepping upon dangerous territory, knowing full well that if it got too personal, he could flee like before. "I mean when you're wrong and people are shocked because Dr. Gregory House can never be wrong. Do you hate it then? In that moment."

"Not everyone can be right." He moved away from her and began to gather his things.

She turned and watched him, knowing there were no hard feelings, but their night meeting was over. She understood that their conversations meant something more to him. His need to understand the mystery behind everything made their conversations this way. And she decided she was okay with that.

From now on, she would be a bit more cautious, a bit more defensive. She would deflect by shooting it right back at him. It would be their new form of communicating. They would understand each other a little better through these comments. It was a way to hide their true selves yet still manage to expose themselves enough so the other understood. It was a common connection.


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm glad you guys are still enjoying this fic since it's got a lot of chappies. Thanks for sticking with it. Here's a fun chapter. Heehee. Enjoy!**

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Jealousy. Cuddy knew House could be very jealous and possessive. It wasn't always the material items such as his cane or his guitar. Cuddy found herself at the hands of these two emotions every time she even remotely showed affection for any member of the opposite sex that was _not_ House.

Of course, Cuddy always chose to ignore it. She wasn't going to let him stand in the way of her happiness just because he felt it was best to trail her, annoy her, and practically ruin most of her nights with various dates. However, secretly, Cuddy found a sense of comfort in House's actions. It pleased her to know that he was concerned for her and that he cared, in his own way, of course.

She was waiting for him and pacing. It wasn't like him to blow her off at this stage in their friendship. Of course, she knew, if he didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes, she would leave. He was unpredictable and she couldn't always rely on him to keep up his end of their meeting arrangement.

"Good morning."

She stopped pacing and looked to the doorway as he made his way into the med student lounge. She took a seat on the couch and he flopped down in the armchair.

"I didn't think you were going to show," she told him.

"Why?" His eyebrows drew together. "You have to love me. My time in doing so is running out."

"We still have two months," she pointed out, her eyes never leaving his.

He shifted a bit uncomfortably under her stare. He cleared his throat and gained his composure. "Failed any tests as of late?"

"No, I have not," she defended herself quickly, annoyed that he was jumping right into it.

He gave a shrug. "You're busier than usual. I just figured..."

"Why would you assume that?" She knew he was curious, but he wasn't letting up on the fact that he was bothered by the recent event in her life. She wanted him to admit it.

He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. "We've been meeting less and less. Our times keep growing later and later. _Have_ you been busier?"

"A little," she answered as if it was no big deal.

He leaned forward. "Busy with what?"

She let out a sigh, giving in. "What do you want know?"

"What?" He pulled back, placing false confusion on his face.

"You dodge around actual questions with pointless ones." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"So?" He thought about getting up and moving across the room to see if she would follow him, but ultimately decided it would be best if he held his ground.

"So what do you want to know?" she asked.

He eyed her up carefully before speaking. "Did you sleep with him?"

"I- well-" she flustered, "that's... kind of personal."

"You did, you whore," he accused, drawing back in disgust.

She glared at him. "Hey!"

"One date and you put out." He shook his head.

"We've been dating for a while." She grew quiet. "Besides... we haven't had sex."

"Is he gay?" He still didn't believe it.

"No, he's not gay." She gave him a look, annoyed at this point.

"I'm sure he's lying to you," he said. "_We_ weren't even dating and we still-"

"House," she cut him off. "He doesn't know about you."

The air in the room suddenly seemed stale to him. He stood from the chair and moved towards the doorway. He stopped halfway and faced her.

"I thought everyone on campus knew about me." He hoped his ego would save him from the direction of this conversation.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she replied. "He doesn't know we're friends and we meet here this late. Like this."

"Like_ how_?" he asked her, questioning her with his stare.

"Could you stop it for two seconds and talk to me?" She folded her arms across her chest, showing him that she wanted to stop their perpetual game.

"What is there to talk about?" he asked. "You're dating some guy who chews his fingernails and takes cash to write papers for others. I don't quite know what we're suppose to be talking about, Cuddy."

She stood from the couch and reached for her bag. "I knew you were going to get weird about this. It started as soon as you found out, but I didn't say anything. Now, it's just... too much."

"You keep talking, but all I hear is screechy bitchiness," he stated simply.

She snapped to attention and accused, "You're jealous of him." She lowered her tone and sighed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but we're_ not_ together, right?" He nodded in response. She gave him a nod in return. "Okay."

After she her situated her bag over herself, she moved to the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed him, pulling her back. She turned to him as his hand still held its grip.

"What are you hiding, Cuddy?" he asked as he leaned in closer to her.

She attempted to remove her arm from his hand, but failed in doing so. Giving up rather easily, she sighed. "Nothing."

"I've made you love me?" he asked her, loosening his hold just a touch.

"No," she answered, keeping her eyes locked with his. "I don't want things to change between us. I mean, you know he _bites his fingernails_, House. Why else would you bother to care about that unless it's because of me?"

He released her and took a step back. "The guy has a reputation and I had the unfortunate disposition to sit behind him in class last year. I watched him practically chew his hand off every day. The information I had gathered were from personal experiences only." He paused and his voice lowered. "It had nothing to do with you."

She waited a moment, then nodded. "Good... It's late. I should be going."

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Goodnight, then." She removed herself from his vision as she disappeared through the doorway of the med student lounge. What had started off as something a bit more playful had turned into an almost painfulness which she regretted.

He remained grounded in his spot, staring at the empty doorway after she had gone. He almost hoped she still wouldn't mention him to her love interest just in case they got down to details. He never had a class with the guy and he only recently found out about his paper writing for investments after a little snooping. But, he figured as he made his way out of lounge, she didn't need to know that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello, all!! Here's the next chappie. I'm not sure how many there will be in total, but I DO know that this will end by the end of the school year, so it WILL have an end. We've got about three months left to their semester, so we'll see. Heehee. Okay, on with the fic. Enjoy!!**

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Cuddy had to give House some credit. His reading of people was undeniably accurate. Of course, she always denied it, but he knew better. Even back then, he knew what he was talking about. As he grew older, his skill developed further. Cuddy often found herself even more exposed to him when she tried to hide herself.

And, as always, there were the people she had to deal with that House had managed to piss off in his antics. Occasionally, he was wrong, but for the most part, he could pick apart the psyche of nearly anyone. To do this day, Cuddy could never determine if his skill was a good thing or a bad one.

"Hey." He slouched in the doorway, a familiar spot.

"Hey." She looked up from the textbook she was reading at the table across the room in the med student lounge. "You over yourself?"

"Not yet." He stepped into the room, but went no further.

She lowered her gaze and shut the book. She placed her palm on the cover and brought her eyes back up to him. "I told him."

"Did he fear I would whisk you away with my good humor and charm?" he asked in return.

"He didn't believe me," her tone indicated her displeasure in this matter.

"That you're human?" He began to cross the room now that her defenses were down, which made him feel more comfortable.

"He didn't believe we were sort of friends." Her eyes followed him as he drew closer.

"Is that something like friends with benefits?" He stopped on the other side of the table. "Because I'm not getting much of the benefits."

She tore her eyes from him again and studied the scratch on the table top. "We broke up."

He couldn't hold back his smirk. "Over me?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She glared at him. "He didn't believe me about you and he _laughed_ at me. I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who doubts me and my abilities."

"I'd never doubt you," he mocked sincerity as sat down across from her.

"That's because you're still trying to get me to love you," she shot back, still glaring.

He leaned the chair back on its hind legs. "Is it working?"

"No," she answered.

He let the chair drop to its rightful position. A calm washed over his face. "I'm sorry."

This was the first time she ever heard him this sincere without a hint of sarcasm. "Thank you."

His smirk was suddenly back and she feared the worst. "You slept with him."

"What?" she asked, a tactic she picked up to stall.

"You did," he accused, delight showing across his face.

She shook her head. "I didn't."

"You're blushing." He leaned forward.

She paused and let out a sigh. "I did."

He leaned back in his chair again and smiled. "And now it's over."

"Yes," she agreed and then added quickly, "but I ended it so it wasn't about him using me for sex."

"Oh, you used him." He nodded, understanding.

"No," she replied, offended.

"So you had sex with him..." He paused, letting the truth sit aloud before continuing, "and now it's over..."

"You can stop analyzing it," she snapped, wanting to slap the arrogance off his face.

He stared at her a moment and then said, "I don't think you ended it just because if me."

"Well, you're right because I didn't," she shot back and folded her arms across her chest.

"You used it as an excuse," he told her.

Her eyebrows drew together. "Then, what's the real reason?"

"I don't think you want me to answer that." He shook his head and his tone only made her want to know even more. She was certain that was his aim.

She dropped her arms to her sides. "Why?"

"Truth hurts." He gave a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You think you know the truth?"

"I_ do_ know," he insisted, leaning forward, wanting to draw her in.

"Fine," she said shortly, straightening in her seat. "Tell me."

He shook his head. "I can't take it back if you don't like it."

"I know," she replied, annoyed.

"Remember that I warned you." He raised a pointed finger.

"House." She gave him a warning now.

"Okay." He jumped to his feet and began to pace, keeping his eyes in her. "What you said makes complete sense because you don't want him to sidetrack you. However, the other part of this, that you didn't mention, is that you're scared."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, give me a break."

He stopped pacing. "You're scared to get close. Scared to love someone."

She shook her head at him. "But, why would-"

"Because you don't want to be wrong," he cut her off, knowing her thoughts before she said them. "You don't want to be disappointed."

"Who do I want to love, then?" she scoffed. "You?"

"Yes," he answered as if it was obvious.

She stood to her feet, feeling the sudden need to get away from his piercing blues. "You're saying all of this because-"

"Because you asked me to," he finished her sentence.

"You're wrong."

She moved around the table, but he cut her off at the pass by stepping in front of her. He locked his eyes with hers.

"No," he told her. "I'm not."

She took a step back. "Why aren't you in a relationship then, huh? Can't love anyone?"

"We're talking about you." He kept his eyes on her.

"I've never seen you around with any women," she said, folding her arms across her chest defensively.

"Doesn't mean I haven't been." He shrugged. "I've slept with-"

"I'm not talking about sex," she cut him off.

He gave her a look of annoyance. "I hurt your feelings, so now you want to turn on me?"

"You think you're unlovable-"

"Not true," he interrupted and went on the defense as well. "You-"

"And you deflect," she finished her thought.

He frowned. They were at a standstill. He kept his eyes on her while she watched him, neither making a move.

He wanted to grab her, kiss her, make her come with him back to his room. Even if it had nothing to do with sex. Even if it was just to talk to her, to be around her for more than a few hours. But, that wasn't going to happen. She was wise to him.

She waited for him to defend himself... or insult her. When he didn't and she realized he had switched off into some other part of himself, she made her way back over to the table and sat down in her former seat.

He crossed back over to the table as well and sat down across from her. For the next hour, they sat in silence. She studied for her exam the next day and he studied her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey, guys! Thank you for your feedback! I love it. I just wanted to say that I don't own 'The Way You Look Tonight.' I also wanted to say that I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Heehee. Hope you guys enjoy it :o)**

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The piano was his retreat. Cuddy knew that. She also knew that it changed him. When he was there, at the bench, he was in his own world. She was always intrigued by this.

Given the opportunity, she would watch him, his fingers on the keys, and wonder what was going on inside. It was through the piano that House found himself. It was where Cuddy knew, when it came to it, she could always find him as well.

"Will you hurry up?"

She stopped and turned around, staring out into the darkness and waiting for his reply. He caught up to her and gave her a look.

"If I had known we'd be trekking across campus," he started, "I would have brought my walking stick and canteen."

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's not _that_ far."

She took off again and he sighed. Giving her the head start, he began after her once more, following her to whatever destination she had chosen.

"Does this surprise involve you naked?" he called out to her backside.

"No," she called back to him.

He smirked. "Does it involve _me_ naked?"

"No," she answered again.

He stopped. "It _does_ involve me, right?"

She looked over her shoulder and shot him a smile. "Yes."

He picked up his pace as he began toward her. He slowed once he was at her side. "Are you taking me to some remote part of the campus to kill me?"

She gave him a side glance. "And rid the world of the medical genius known as Dr. House? Never."

She stopped in front of a building he had only ever looked at from a distance before today. She tugged at one of the heavy wooden doors and it opened for her. Flashing him a smile, she disappeared into the darkened building and he followed in after her.

"Where are we?" he asked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"We're in the theatre," she answered him, surprised he didn't know.

He followed her movement as she led him to a staircase. "I've never been here."

She began down the stairs. "Haven't you seen any plays? Or gone to any of the concerts?"

"Nope." He gave a shrug, even though she couldn't see it.

When she stopped on the landing and pulled open another door, he began to grow worried. He never went in theatre so this was all new territory for him. He didn't like it.

She led him down a dark hallway and to another door. She passed through the doorway and began down another flight of stairs. He was even more apprehensive.

"Where are we going?" He followed her down the stairs.

"Quit whining," she replied.

"Do you even know where you're going?" He stepped alongside of her now, looking at her face to see if she indicated any confusion.

"Yes, I know where I'm going." She brought her eyes to him. "I have a few friends in the theatre department."

He mulled that over a moment as they continued down flights of stairs. He looked to her again.

"Are we breaking a rule?"

A smile spread over her face. "Maybe."

He smirked. "Lisa Cuddy is flying solo in an attempt to break a rule without the help of Greg House."

She stopped quickly at a door on a landing. "Will you ever shut up?"

"Will you ever love me?" he returned.

"No," she answered him and pushed the door open.

"There's your answer," he replied and followed her through.

She led him down another darkened hallway. There were closed doors lined on either side of them. She stopped at the second one on the left.

"Going to pick the lock now?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She drew a small key from inside her pocket, a smile on her face again. "I don't need to."

She unlocked the door and stepped inside. It smelled of old books and make up. He waited in the doorway until she flicked on the light.

The room was large and the middle of it was clear of clutter, but the edges were stuffed with racks of clothes and boxes full of random objects ranging from horns and bells to stuffed animal heads and bicycle tires. A wooden piano sat sadly against the wall.

She walked out into the middle of the room, the worn floorboards creaking softly beneath her. She took in a deep breath and looked to the doorway where he peeked his head in cautiously. After taking a quick look around, he stepped inside.

"What is this?" he asked her, but his focus was on a broken bright pink coat rack leaning against several boxes.

"It's the prop room," she answered him, still taking it in. "But, there's costumes in this room, too. The other prop room is more organized. Isn't it great?"

He brought his eyes back to her. "This is my surprise?"

"Your surprise is the piano." She nodded toward the instrument against the wall.

"What makes you think I play?" he asked, almost defensively, which she picked up on.

"You've mentioned it before," she shrugged, "once or twice. You can't bring your piano to your apartment like you can your guitar. I wanted to hear you play."

"So my surprise is to play the piano for _you_?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," she answered him.

He walked across the room and seated himself at the piano. The keys weren't dusty, which surprised him, but he couldn't be sure as to why.

He raised his fingers and would have drawn out the suspense just to annoy her, but he missed the keys. His guitar was always fun, but the piano was his home. And nothing ever compared to home.

She was examining various props as he began to play. She recognized the song almost instantly, but the tempo was much slower than the Sinatra version she was used to.

"Someday... when I'm awfully low..."

He wasn't singing, but merely stretching the words out a bit. His voice would have went unnoticed if she hadn't been listening so hard.

"When the world is cold... I will feel a glow..."

She picked up a black feather boa and placed it around herself. She rummaged through another box and removed a top hat from it. As she crossed the room, she brushed the dust from it. She plopped it on his head and he gave her a glance.

"I think the song is suppose to be faster than that," she told him.

"If I'm providing the words, it's not fast," he replied.

She shrugged. "You don't have to sing."

"Fine." He removed his fingers from the keys.

She shook her head. "I didn't mean stop playing."

He stood from he piano bench and she suddenly regretted her words. She was enjoying hearing him play. However, he took her by surprise as he placed one hand to her hip and took her hand with his free one. He began to hum the song from where he stopped playing.

She smiled and placed her free hand up around his shoulder. She drew herself closer to him and he slid his hand around to the small of her back. He smiled to himself and continued on with his humming. She breathed in the scent she missed and lost herself in the sound of his deep voice.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for all your feedback and support. I'm glad the last chapter was well received and I hope you like this one as well. Enjoy, everyone! Thanks again for being awesome readers. :o)**

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If she tried hard enough, Cuddy could match House. She knew on the right occasion, she could persuade him. She knew on the right occasion, she had control. But, for the most part, he was in charge. It wasn't that she gave in to him, but rather, he was temperamental and she was careful of that.

Even knowing this, Cuddy would never tip toe around him or humor him in order to soothe. Instead, she would let him go on and be who he was because sometimes it was for the better. Sometimes it was better to let things remain beneath the surface.

They had temporarily relocated to the prop room and she would have felt bad about deserting her med student lounge if it wasn't for the fact that he was accompanying her. Currently, he was at the piano, playing around on the keys. She, on the other hand, was playing with everything in the prop room.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this," she directed her words to him, "but I'm glad you can pick nearly any kind of lock."

He paused in his playing. "Well, I had to do something since you returned the key."

"I_ had_ to return the key," she replied. "I couldn't keep telling Anne Marie I forgot it."

"Yes, you could have." He began to play again. "Or you could have told her you lost it."

"Unlike you, I still want to have friends." She turned back to the box of foam objects she had been digging through. "She trusted me with that key, I couldn't-"

"Oh, spare me the mightier than thou speech," he cut her off.

She frowned, but didn't argue. It would have only spurred him on if she had. Instead, she turned her attention back to him and changed the subject.

"House, what are we doing?" she asked his backside.

"Breaking rules," he answered over his shoulder.

"I meant..." Her eyebrows drew together. "The year's almost over. I don't want to be the one to ask this, but what's going to happen?"

His fingers pressed over three keys before he stopped. "Do you love me?"

She sighed. "No."

He shrugged and brought his fingers back down on the keys. "Then, nothing."

She frowned and continued to stare at his backside. She couldn't tell if he was being honest with her or not.

"What would you have said if I had told you yes?" Her curiosity took over.

"Same thing," he replied.

Now, she didn't believe him. "If I told you that I loved you, you would have still said that nothing would happen?"

"Yes." He still hadn't looked to her.

"Liar," she accused and crossed the room.

"Never," he returned and kept on playing.

She sighed again. It was useless to argue. Especially when he was in his place at the piano.

"We've created a perfect place for ourselves." She kicked at a scrap of fabric on the floor. "But, you're going to leave this and I'll still be here. It won't be the same."

She waited for him to respond, but he didn't. He was listening to everything she was saying, but he wasn't sure what to offer. They both knew their time was running out. There was nothing he could do to change that. There was nothing he could say to change that either.

"Are we going to keep in touch?" She stopped a few feet from the piano bench.

He slid from the bench and finally faced her. He wondered when she had changed into a red 1920's flapper dress without him noticing. He moved towards her.

"When you say _in touch_, you're implying..." He stopped in front of her and trailed his fingers over her bare shoulder.

She stepped back. "We're friends."

"I think we're a little more than-" He looked to the doorway and his tone shifted. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" She followed his gaze to the doorway.

"Sh." He brought his eyes back to her. "Someone's coming."

"Oh my God." She felt her heart begin to pound. "If we get caught-"

He shoved her into the racks of wardrobe against the wall. She climbed through two full racks and hid underneath the clothes on the third. She pulled a trench coat over herself and held her breath as the voices and footsteps grew louder. She realized that he hadn't followed her through the racks of clothes.

"Why is this open?" She didn't recognize the voice.

"That stupid freshman never locks up after she goes through pulling stuff for the show," a female voice spoke. "I'll have to tell Matty she forgot again."

"You have a key?"

"Yeah."

The light went out and she breathed out slowly in her hiding place, wanting her eyes to adjust to the darkness instantly. She heard the door close and the key turn in the lock. Then, the footsteps began to move away until it was quiet once again.

She pulled the coat from her head and wondered where her partner in crime was. He obviously hid somewhere else unseen. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she began to make her way out of the racks of clothes. Just as she was passing through the last one, she felt his hand on her hip.

"Hey," he greeted her in a whisper.

His lips met hers and she stepped back into the wardrobe, shirts hitting her on either side. He pressed his body against hers as the clothes enveloped him as well. When he broke their kiss, he found himself looking into her eyes. She stared back at him, practically breathless.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he confessed.

"Greg..." Her hands were against his chest. "We can't. I don't want-"

"You do," he cut her off. "I know you do."

He ran his fingers up her thigh, catching the bottom of the dress and dragging it lightly up her skin. She tensed and let out a breath.

"I don't want to have sex with you." She shook her head gently, trying to convince herself more than him.

"You don't _want_ to?" he repeated. He didn't believe her and with good reason because he was right.

"You know I-" she attempted to explain herself. "That there are... but... Greg, stop."

He drew back. He understood. Their relationship hadn't been kind to either of them at certain times, but it managed to draw in a lot of emotion. Emotion that hurt sometimes.

He removed himself from the clothes rack and made his way back to the piano. He seated himself and began playing a song she didn't recognize. She took this moment as an opportunity to change back into her normal clothes.

As she placed the red dress back on the clothes rack, she wondered if their relationship had been pretend. If what they had was a get up that could be tucked away and easily forgotten. She turned in his direction and watched him play, wondering if it had been a game. A game that neither would lose, but one they certainly wouldn't win either.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you, guys, for your lovely comments. They really help to keep this fic going. So, thank you so much!!! I hope you enjoy this next one:o)**

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Cuddy wasn't new to House's devious ways. In fact, she almost expected them with every case he received. Even if it was his technique and his way of doing things, she knew she couldn't let it slide. Even if it helped and cured the patient in the end.

So, time and time again, Cuddy would glare and scold, spy and yell, and then scold some more. However, it never bothered House because he knew he could get away with it in the end. That thought slightly bothered her, but she couldn't do anything to change it because they both came to the same conclusion on the matter. More often than not, he was right.

She was studying for nearly an hour and a half. She had come to terms with the new peace she was experiencing in the med student lounge. As she yawned in the late hour, she lifted her eyes from her book and tried to hold back a smile when she saw him in the doorway.

"Hey, stranger," she greeted and her smile broke through.

"Hey," he returned, but didn't enter.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her studies forgotten already. "I thought you deserted me."

He smirked. "You were missing the love of your life, huh?"

"No." She frowned. "But I did miss you."

He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a few steps into the lounge. "I was suspended."

"What?" She straightened in her concern and she suddenly wasn't the least bit tired anymore.

"It was an 'unofficial suspension' because they can't prove that I really did anything," he told her and crossed to the table she was seated at. "I also have to live off campus now."

"What did you do?" She gaped at him. "I hear the rumors, but I never believe them."

He sat across from her. "Why? Because you think you know me?"

"I_ do_ know you," she insisted.

"Right," he agreed with a dubious raise of his eyebrows.

"What did you do?" she asked him again.

"If you know me so well, you should already know the answer to that," he replied.

"I know you." She shook her head. "Not the stupid things you do."

He leaned back in his chair. "I didn't think it was very stupid."

"What?" She was dying to know and the suspense was getting to her.

He sensed this so he told her, with complete nonchalance of course. "I convinced one of my roommates he was dying and used him as a guinea pig in order to 'fix him.' He wasn't too happy when he found out all he had was poison ivy."

"You made him think he was dying?" Her mouth remained hanging open. "That's..."

"Amazing?" he finished for her.

"Awful," she corrected, her eyebrows drawn.

"Yeah, well he'll thank me for it someday." He leaned forward in his chair and his eyes fell upon her book. "What are you doing?"

"Studying," she answered him.

"Oh, right," he rolled his eyes, "because if you get anything lower than a hundred, you'll kill yourself."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He gave her a shrug in reply and stood up from his chair. He looked to the doorway and then back at her.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" he suggested.

"It's wet outside," she said.

"No, it's not," he replied.

She shook her head at him. "It was raining when I walked over."

"I was just out there," he told her. "It's a little cold, but it's not raining. Come on."

"And go where?" She folded her arms across her chest, not entirely convinced. "The prop room's off limits since we almost got caught."

"You worry too much." He headed for the doorway.

"Excuse me, but who just got suspended and kicked off campus?" she asked and slammed her textbook shut.

He turned around. "It was unofficial."

Shaking her head once again, she slipped on her coat. "All right, let's go. Who knows how long you'll still be at this school anyway. Maybe they'll kick you out before you can graduate."

"They're not that dumb." He waited for her.

"Maybe not, but you are." She passed him as she headed for the door. "Experimenting on a roommate? Really, House, did you think that was going to pan out well for you?"

He held the door for her as she stepped out into the moist air. She waited until he was alongside of her before she began to walk.

"It was going great until he got a second opinion," he told her in response.

"You can't make people sicker and play with their lives for your own amusement," she said, frowning at him.

"Who said anything about making him sicker?" he asked, throwing his hands out. "I was just pumping him full of things to get a reaction."

"You're insane," she replied and shivered against the cool air.

"How do you think we became so advanced in medicine and technology, Cuddy?" he asked. "Experimentation. I'm just joining in with Galileo, Edison, and Pasteur."

She stared at him. "You really play by your own rules, don't you?"

"Don't you?" he turned the tables on her.

She paused. "No." She didn't want to talk about this anymore. "And it's cold out."

"Here." He took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders.

She eyed him up. "Now, you'll be cold."

He shook his head. "I never get cold."

"Then, why even wear a coat to begin with?" she asked, clutching tighter onto his coat.

"So I can pretend I'm a gentleman to get women to have sex with me," he answered and placed his hands within his pockets.

"Smart ass," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"You asked." He shrugged. "I believe in honesty."

She frowned at him. "Since when?"

"Since I began lying," he returned.

She let out a loud sigh and his eyebrows drew together as he stared at her.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"I just..." She paused. "I get tired going back and forth with you sometimes."

"Guess you'll have to build up your stamina," he suggested and took a quick left.

"Maybe." She caught up alongside of him. "Though, it's kind of pointless since the semester will be over soon enough."

"You've been bringing that up a lot lately." He didn't look at her.

Her eyes burned into him. "So?"

He brought his eyes to her and spoke lightly. "Forget about it. Pretend we never have to end this creepy late night two person society we have going. It kills the mood when you bring it up."

"Right," she agreed, lying to him. "You're right."

"I'm always right," he replied.

"Especially when it comes to poison ivy," she said, giving him a smile.

"Poison ivy, black death." He shrugged. "Same thing."

"Yeah." She kept the smile on her face, hoping it hid the fact that she knew that no matter how much she tried, she couldn't forget that their time was running out.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello, everyone! This chapter was fun to write. I enjoyed it. So, I hope you enjoy it as well! And thank you for the fantastic comments!!**

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One thing Cuddy couldn't quite understand was her loyalty to him. She blamed it on knowing him that long time ago, or on the fact that he had helped her in their past, or simply because those in the medical field have a certain loyalty to each other.

In any case, she knew that being loyal to someone like House was frowned upon. However, on rare nights when her mind took her to places she tried not to examine, she found herself glad of her loyalty, knowing that even though he would never admit it, he reciprocated that very same loyalty.

She was sitting on the couch in the med student lounge, a book in her lap, when two young men and a woman entered. She glanced at them, wondering what they were doing here at one in the morning. Noting their lack of books, she was beginning to have a bad feeling.

The group seated themselves at the table, which made her even more nervous since her back was to them now. They began whispering and she tried hard to pick up any part of their conversation.

"There's the man of the evening!"

She glanced up and saw Gregory House standing in the doorway, staring past her and at the table where the voice came from. He entered, coolly, and ignored her presence as he made his was to the table.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the group.

"Sable's been saying you've been coming to the lounge late at night," the male voice and leader of the pack spoke up. "Guess it's true."

"Sable's a jackass." he replied. "It's a waste to listen to him."

"Then, what are you doing here?" the female asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we heard what you did to Ed," the scruffy, chain smoker voice of the other young man jumped in. "Man, he freaked out. That's why you're not on campus anymore."

"You can always count on rumors to spread lies," he said, remaining standing.

"Come on, Greg, it was _Ed_," Female said, glaring and not letting her guard down. "He doesn't make shit up."

"Yeah," Chain Smoker agreed.

He let out a sigh and took a look around the room before bringing his gaze back to the three. "It was a joke."

"A joke?" the Alpha Male repeated. "He was writing a will."

"Well, I wouldn't want what he has to give away." He debated sitting, but decided against it. He wondered for a moment how intently she was listening over on the couch.

"Like he would give anything to you anyway," Alpha Male shot back.

"So, what are you up to?" Female tried to pull the question off as casual, but it came out rather harshly.

"Yeah." Chain Smoker gave a nod.

"Nothing." He gave them a shrug.

"We're only asking because we want in," Alpha Male said cruelly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Care to repeat that?"

"Ed told us everything you did to him and we think you're on to something," Alpha Male explained. "If you're experimenting in here, we want in."

"Even if I was messing around in here, I still wouldn't include any of you," he replied.

Female practically jumped out of her seat. "Greg-"

"Oh, come on, you think I would?" He asked them. "If you hadn't noticed, you're all on the same playing field while I'm about ten above you."

"Above us?" Chain Smoker repeated.

"You'd be crying 'unethical' before I'd even get a chance to cut someone open or get 'em to pop a pill," he said in response.

"You're really all about the unethical, aren't you, Greg?" Female locked eyes with him.

"Let me guess, you're the reformer." He leaned down in her direction.

"You just don't want to talk because we're not alone," Female replied and then looked past Greg and towards the couch. "Hey, you, with the hair."

She had been listening the entire time and knew she couldn't play it off as if she hadn't been. So, she turned and stared coldly at the woman who had addressed her.

"You a med student?" Female asked.

"Yes," she answered crisply.

"Freshman, right?" Female waited for a response, but only received a glare. "Huh. Thought so. Listen, we're seniors, so get out. Seniority ranks here."

"You know, getting the fresh meat out of here isn't going to make me tell you my diabolical experiments considering I don't _have_ any," he butted into the little exchange.

"Right, like Ed was your only attempt at human experimentation," Alpha Male replied with sarcasm.

"What are you so interested in anyway?" He asked the three of them. "You're appalled at my actions and the school doesn't appreciate them all that much either. Expulsion isn't a word they simply toss around unless I play a factor and you want to associate with that?"

"We know you're onto something and you think you are under the radar here." Alpha Male stood to his feet. "Let us in on it and we won't tell the Dean."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." He rolled his eyes. "Threats? Over the want to be expelled?"

"Let the freshman be our witness." Alpha Male indicated the freshman on the couch. "Either you'll let us in on your discoveries, Greg, or we'll shut you out. We need our names out there as much as you do."

"That's because you suck at being doctors." He couldn't hold back the insult. "And the freshman is a witness to your blackmail."

"Yeah, like she's really going to oppose us," Female tossed an irritated glance to the couch.

She was still watching the scene and bit her tongue. She hoped they would be leaving soon because she couldn't just sit and watch much longer.

"See?" Female looked up at Greg. "She's too intimidated to even say anything."

"Hey," the words came out of her mouth as she stood from the couch. "As a matter of fact, I'm not some defenseless freshman. I get top marks and I don't try to steal the ideas and discoveries made by other worthy doctors."

"Worthy?" Alpha Male asked her. "Obviously she doesn't know she's referring to Greg House. You _have_ heard the name Greg House, right?"

"Of course I have and he'll be better than anything you could ever be," she spat back. "Sure, he may be arrogant, dismissive, and rude, but his mind can't be matched by any of yours. And he would never try to piggyback anyone else's work."

Alpha Male chuckled. "Greg, it seems the freshman is infatuated with you."

"Shut up, Artie." He glared in the direction of Alpha Male.

"I heard you blackmail him and don't think I'm not going to-" She caught the look on Greg's face that told her she could stop now. So, she did.

"Not going to what?" Chain Smoker asked. "Are you trying to be intimidating?"

"It's not even worth it to waste my time on such untrustworthy doctors such as yourselves." She raised her chin a little. "It's pathetic really."

Chain Smoker stood to his feet. "Maybe we should escort you out."

"I'll be fine on my own," she shot back and slammed her textbook shut.

Without another glance at them, she took off out of the room. Once outside, she stopped and took in a deep breath. She couldn't believe what those three doctors had said to Greg.

Shadows quickly approaching the door caught her attention and she ducked behind a pillar. The three exited the building, one of them smoking a cigarette. She watched them go and waited, hoping he would be coming out next.

After a minute, he stormed out of the building. He blew right by the pillar she was standing behind. She hurried after him.

"Greg," she spoke through the darkness and caught up alongside of him.

"Those guys are assholes," he said to her, but wouldn't meet her eyes. He was still riled up.

"Yeah, I kind of got that," she replied. "They're graduating with you?"

"They're the assholes that just scraped by," he told her. "They'll be the future black market, sleeping with the nurses, taking bribes doctors. Not that that's a problem or anything."

"It's disgusting is what it is." She placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. She softened the tone of her voice. "I can't believe they thought they could really get away with threatening you like that."

He faced her. "It's not that big a deal, warrior princess." He suddenly smiled. "You really went to town in there."

"They thought I was a worthless freshman." She folded her arms across her chest in offense.

"Told you." He shrugged. "They're assholes."

"Did you notice we didn't say we knew each other." She uncrossed her arms and gave him a small smile. "It was like... something switched."

"Like you would want anyone to know you're friends with someone who's arrogant, dismissive and rude," He repeated the three things she accused of him.

"You know that's true." Her smile grew. "Besides, you wouldn't want anyone to know you're friends with an intimidated freshman anyway."

"Right." He gave her a nod.

"Right," she agreed and suddenly didn't know how his lips became pressed against hers. Although, in the moment, it didn't very much matter.


	20. Chapter 20

**Yay! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter and especially that last line. Thank you for all your comments! This is the second to last chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it!**

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Cuddy knew House. It was that simple. When she saw him many years later lying in the hospital bed because of his infarction, she wondered many things that had nothing to do with medicine. She wondered if he remembered her, _how_ he remembered her, and of course, if he had changed. 

Quite quickly, Cuddy found out he hadn't changed. He still held the same interests and he still insulted people with the same intellect. He was a little older, a bit sharper, and perhaps a bit harder. But, through all that, Cuddy still knew him because he was still that man she knew so long ago.

"Oh my God, what happened?" She stood from her chair at the table in the med student lounge.

He smiled at her concern as he jammed his crutches into the ground and took a hop forward. She hurried across the room and stared down at his ankle wrapped in bandages.

"Sprain," he told her. "After I spoke to a group of boy scouts, I was helping this darling mother of three with her groceries and I was almost run over by a teen pushing shopping carts. Fell and sprained my ankle."

She looked up at him slyly, placing a hand on her hip. "Is this before or after you saved a puppy from a burning building?"

"After," he answered as if it was obvious. "I can't very well jump from a burning building carrying a puppy _and_ a baby while I have sprained ankle."

"Of course," she replied and headed back to the table. "You were doing something you weren't suppose to, weren't you?"

"Did you expect anything less?" he asked following after her, much slower with his crutches.

"No," she called back to him and seated herself.

Once he finally reached the table, he stared at her until she looked up at him. "Remind me if I ever have to use anything that resembles a crutch again, to kill myself."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, a smile on her face. He lowered himself into the seat across the table from her. He rested his crutches against the table and watched with annoyance as they slid away from him and clattered to the floor.

"Fantastic," he muttered and attempted to swipe them from the floor.

"I'll get them later," she told him quickly. "Don't fall off the chair. Are you going to be better enough to walk across the stage?"

"I've got almost two weeks, Cuddy." He straightened himself up in his chair. "I'll be fine."

"Just making sure." She gave a shrug. "It'd be such a shame if you couldn't walk for graduation."

"Why?" His eyebrows drew together.

"It's a big day," she replied. "Are your parents coming?"

"Nope," he answered.

"Really?" she asked, concerned. "That-"

"I lied," he cut off her flatly.

"Oh," she said. "Sometimes I don't know when you're making things up or not."

He leaned forward. "That's the beauty of a lie."

She shook her head. "Lies aren't beautiful."

"Says _you_," he emphasized and then leaned back. "So, do I get a present or something?"

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. "For what?"

"For my 'big day.'" His sarcasm replaced a use of air quotes.

"Not from me, you don't," she replied, drawing back slightly.

"I thought 'big days' deserved rewards," he said.

"You can stop saying it like that," she told him. "And I'm not giving you anything that your dirty mind could come up with."

"Why would you think it'd be dirty?" he feigned his own confusion.

"Remind me who I am talking to." She frowned. "You're staring at my breasts."

"Sorry?" He brought his gaze to her face. "And House." She smiled. His eyebrows drew together. "What?"

Her smile grew. "You said House, not Greg."

"You're hearing things." He changed the subject by pointing to a picture on her class notes lying open on the table. "What the hell is that?"

"What?" She looked down at her notebook.

"That thing that looks like a mutated Don Quixote," he answered.

"It's a cat," she mumbled.

"Oh." He drew back. "That's a Picasso cat right there."

"You're not funny." She gave him slight attitude in her defense.

"It's a good thing you're smart because you'd never pass for an artist." He raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh acting as if she just dodged a bullet.

She slapped her notebook shut. "Okay, I get it."

He cocked his head to the side, a smile coming over his face. "Does this mean _the_ Lisa Cuddy doodles in class?"

"I drew that before class," she informed him.

"That's right." He nodded. "You get there twenty minutes early."

"Fifteen," she corrected and then lowered her tone. "I like a seat in the front."

"You know the _back_," he paused, drawing her attention, "is where it's _at_."

She put her elbows on the table and then placed her face between her palms. She let out a slight sigh as she stared at him.

"What?" he asked her with annoyance.

She let out a louder sigh. "Nothing."

"Oh, for Pete's sake." He rolled is eyes.

She dropped her arms to the table and held back a laugh. "Pete's sake? Really?"

"My mother used to say it," he explained.

"You quote your mother," she gave a nod, trying extremely hard not to laugh.

"You were using manipulating women sighs," he accused.

She raised her eyebrows. "Was I?"

"You did it twice," he pointed out.

"Did I?" She kept up her act of innocence.

He eyed her up with cautious suspicions. "What are you up to?"

She dropped down into a lower tone and gave a deflated shrug. "Nothing. Well, thinking about things you told me not to."

"Right." He couldn't stop his eye roll. "Graduation. I still have two weeks to assault you, offend you, and basically harass you, so don't get all choked up just yet."

"It's less than two weeks," she said.

"_Okay_," he stretched the word out. "Thirteen days then."

"I'm not sad," she spoke up. "For the record. I'm glad you're graduating and moving into your career. It's just going to be different next year, that's all."

"I bet it'll be a lot easier," he replied. "More work, but you'll actually get it done without me jabbing you in the side every three minutes."

"This was," she paused and gave a small smile, "a fun year."

"No goodbyes yet, dear Cuddy." He used the table to help him stand. "Crutches, please."

She stood and hurried around the table. She picked up his crutches and handed them to him. He situated them under his armpits.

"Thank you," he told her and leaned in. "And we've still got thirteen more days of fun."

He turned from her and hobbled from the room. She smirked, almost sadly, knowing that even with the promise of thirteen more days, it didn't mean that she would get to see him again. She hoped this wasn't their last meeting and moved around the table to focus back on her studies.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi, everyone. So... we've reached the end of our journey. I wanted to thank you guys so much for your enthusiasm and support behind this fic. I'm glad you liked it so much. It's been a fun ride. Thank you for reading. :o)**

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Cuddy didn't know what it was going to be like to work with House after having the past they had. She was nervous and slightly excited, but ultimately left it up to him. After all, he was the one working in a new environment.

It was not long before Cuddy realized that working with House, after taking away all his disobedience and blunt lack of respect, was like wrapping oneself in an old, loved blanket. It was familiar and comfortable, completely worn out, but ultimately it provided a strange sense of security.

The thirteen days went by quickly and she saw him less than a third of them. They weren't avoiding each other, but rather, were both very busy. Now, it was late and she figured he wasn't coming. After all, he had just graduated and was more than likely out celebrating and not worrying about his strange relationship with a soon to be sophomore.

She was there to see him graduate. Of course, it was so packed that she knew she wouldn't be able to speak to him after. That left her wondering when the last time they saw each other was. It had to have been a few days ago because she was studying for a final while he bothered her.

She wondered if that was the last time she was ever going to see him. It was a good possibility, she figured, considering she doubted Gregory House was all about the goodbyes. She jumped when she saw his familiar frame in the doorway.

"Boo." He stepped into the room.

She faced him, hands folded across her chest. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show."

"Almost didn't," he replied. "My friends are going out. I have to meet them in a few minutes."

"Of course." She nodded, understanding. "It's your day to celebrate."

"Something like that." He shrugged.

She didn't like the silence that came between them. "So, your parents were here?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I wasn't a disappointment today."

"You're not a disappointment." She gave him an eye roll, indicating how ridiculous his statement was.

"You haven't met my father," he replied, leaning in close to her.

"He thinks you're a disappointment?" She was surprised that this had never been brought to light before. It almost made her sad.

"This is suppose to be a happy occasion," he told her. "So, yes, let's keep talking about all the negative aspects of my life."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly with a shake of her head.

"I was kidding," he raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Right," she agreed. "I'm going to miss that painful humor and heartless sarcasm."

"No, you're not." He moved over to the couch and flopped down on it.

"Do you have interviews lined up?" She followed after him. "Any job offers?"

"I'm not you, Dr. Cuddy." He stretched out and placed his hands behind his head. "I like to live on the edge without a sense of security."

"I think you'll get a lot of offers." She moved to the armchair and sat down. "You may be one mean son of a bitch, but you know what you're doing."

"You don't need to flatter me to get into my pants, Dr. Cuddy." He gave her a goofy smile. "I thought you knew that."

"Stop calling me Dr. Cuddy like that." She frowned at him.

"You don't want me to call you Dr. Cuddy?" He asked. "What a change this year has brought."

"Well, aren't you the cocky one?" She straightened in her chair and folded her arms across her chest.

He sat up and looked to her. "What?"

"Just because you have a diploma, it doesn't give you the stamp of approval to spout arrogance everywhere," she told him.

"I know that." He rolled his eyes. "I always spout my arrogance to anyone who'll listen. Unfortunately for you, you're the only other person in this room."

She had only been half listening. "Do you want to keep in touch?"

"Out of the blue much?" he asked.

"It's not out of the blue," she replied. "This is the last time we'll be seeing each other. We should keep in touch. You know, in case, down the line, we ever need help or a consult or just to talk." She paused a moment. "I mean, as frustrating as it was to talk with you, I _did_ enjoy it."

"You don't want to associate with me out of here," he said, frowning at her.

Her eyebrows drew together. "Why not?"

"You didn't even want to associate with me in here," he told her.

She uncrossed her arms. "That was you who-"

"No, it wasn't," he cut her off.

"I wouldn't have minded talking with you outside of our late nights," she spoke honestly with him.

"Ah, but we were made for late nights." He leaned back into the couch cushions.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're disgust-"

"Not what I meant," he broke in quickly.

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Do you think we would have ever had something like this if we were exposed to them out there?" He gave a nod to the doorway.

"What do you mean?" She eyed him up.

"If we walked and talked out there with those assholes," he gave her clarification, "do you think it could have escalated to this moment right here?"

She shook her head, confusion still etched across her face. "I don't-"

"Your friends would have tried to dissuade you from having any sort of association with me, professors would get the wrong impression, you'd be shunned," he offered to her. "As for me, my friends would have turned up their noses, I'd be scolded for forcing my ideas on impressionable freshman, and I'd be corrupting the good girl. Not that I particularly would have minded that last accusation."

He gave a wink. She frowned, still caught up in his words. He was right, she knew, but she wasn't entirely convinced.

"And you think out in the real world, it would be the same?" she asked him.

"Of course," he answered. "People are people, Cuddy. They don't change just because their age does."

"So, I won't be seeing you again," she concluded.

"Unless fate brings us together once more," he replied.

"Like you believe in fate." She rolled her eyes.

"You know me too well, Dr. Cuddy." He smirked and she felt her heart sink a little.

"Your friends are probably ready to leave without you," she told him.

"They would." He nodded.

"You should go." She stood from the armchair.

He rose as well. "Yeah."

"Goodbye, House." She stood in front of him. "Good luck. With everything."

"Goodbye, Cuddy," he replied. "Be my warrior princess and the bitch I know that's in there."

She nodded in response. She wasn't going to cry. She told herself she wouldn't. Not in front of him, anyway. He drew her into him, embracing her. She lifted herself up to place her arms around his neck and return the hug.

"Have I made you love me yet?" he whispered into her hair.

She drew back and gave him one last parting smile. "Never."


End file.
